Category Archives: QM2/Scotland

22 August, 2015

by Steven -

After a busy day the day before and knowing that we will be having another long day, we decided to take our time getting going on this second, and last, day in Edinburgh. Last full day in Scotland, actually.

We did make it down for breakfast in the morning. Same routine as yesterday: a harried staff with too many guests to serve in the completely full breakfast room. We managed to get enough to hold us over for a few hours then headed back to the room to get ready for the day.

First order of business was to find out where to pick up our tickets for this night’s show (I’ll tell you more about this show in a bit). I pulled up the confirmation and you won’t believe what I found. It had been so long since I bought these tickets that I had forgotten a very important bit of information. Along with the show tickets I had bought 2-day passes for the hop-on-hop-off buses with admission to Britannia, Holyrood and Edinburgh Castle. The same package Kevin bought us for yesterday! What to do? Certain that they were non-refundable, we thought it worth the try to see if we could get a refund. So much for having a leisurely morning. Off to the ticket office.

We found the ticket office without too much fuss and explained the situation. Sympathetic as they may have been they didn’t think there was anything to do other than try to talk to the bus people. So back to the bus ticket window we go. But no luck there as we had already used the tickets we bought from the them and they couldn't do anything about the tickets I bought with the show. Back to the show ticket window. As I say, the people there were really sympathetic. To the point that the manager offered to take back the bus and sights tickets and sell them to anyone else who might want them. If that happened they would refund our money. Though it was late in their run, she was hopeful. Since we had no better option, we accepted her offer.

Lesson here: review your confirmations!

When we left the hotel this morning, we knew we wouldn’t be coming back until late in the evening and I wanted to wear my kilt to the show this evening. So it was going to be a full day of knocking around Edinburgh in a kilt. Fun for me, perhaps a little embarrassing for Kevin, c’est la vie! The annoying part of that though are the shoes. I bought a higher quality shoe than I perhaps need, but thought these should last a lifetime. The only problem is that they have a little brass bit on the heel. They are the clickiest things on concrete and stone! Click…click…click, every step I take. Perhaps a good thing if you’re in a military bagpipe band, not so much when you’re trying to be an inconspicuous tourist. But I digress.

First stop of the day is Edinburgh Castle. We still have the bus passes but the route would take us all around the city before getting to the castle. Quicker to just walk up the hill. We easily found the alley, “close,” as they call them, that we came down yesterday to take us back up. This put us right back into the middle of the fringe festival street fair with the myriad street performers and buskers. We took a moment to check out a few before heading on to the castle.

As luck would have it we got there just before they shot off the 1:00 gun. We weren’t certain what all the gathering was about at first, but when I saw the gun and a regimented man beginning a talk, it came back to me about this traditional ritual by which all of Edinburgh is to set their clocks and watches. I’m happy we caught this. Yes, a touristy thing to do – as in there really is no other reason for them to do this anymore. But fun, none-the-less. The gentleman in uniform who shot off the gun with such pomp and circumstance also gave a presentation beforehand, but I couldn't make out a word of it.

We continued to explore the castle and learn a bit of its history. I won’t try to go into too much here, but more can be found on the official website: http://www.edinburghcastle.gov.uk/

We didn’t go into every building that one could, but we did check out the Crown Jewels, though impressive, hardly hold a candle to those found in London Tower. Also impressive was the Scottish National War Memorial. This was a former barracks that was transformed into a memorial for those who lost their lives in both world wars. It’s quite moving for its remembrance of the wars but also its architecture. The outside is largely medieval with a few art deco embellishments. The inside is a combination of classic, gothic and art deco. I know that sounds like a lot, but it actually works.

The other thing that stuck me about the castle is just how evident it is that the whole thing is built on a big rock. As you walk around, you see where the rock of the mount still sticks through and the buildings are just placed right on top. Of course, all the courtyards and walkways are stone paved, but peak around the corner of any building and you’ll see the raw outcropping. This is a magma plug from an extinct volcano after all.

Having made the rounds to the parts of the castle that interested us, it was time for lunch. So we were off to search for something a little different (as in not Scottish). And found that we did. Just near the entrance to the castle, we found a Thai restaurant. Some curry and a Singha hit the spot. And we got some entertainment from listening to the German couple at the next table, who never have seemed to have eaten Thai food before, trying to navigate the menu and avoid the landmines of anything spicier than soy sauce. The waiter got quite the interrogation!

The day before, we came across a well-known tourist attraction that we really hadn’t planned on seeing. But on the recommendation of our friends Mark and Todd, we went ahead and bought tickets. After lunch we made our way back down the Royal Mile a few blocks to Mary King’s Close. This is a tour of the underneath world of old Edinburgh. As the city was built on Castle Hill, one building was placed upon another and then another on top of that and so on. This left warrens of rooms, stables, alley ways, and shops where the poorest of the poor of Edinburgh lived and worked. It was fascinating and tacky all at the same time. Not something I would do again but if you find yourself in Edinburgh, but with children (not too young though), this would be a fun diversion for them. Sorry - pictures not allowed.

When we arrived at Mary Kings Close it had been sprinkling a bit, now it was raining. Normally, we wouldn’t care so much and just head back to the hotel. But this wasn’t just any night. Tonight was the Royal Tattoo up at the castle for an evening of bagpipe bands and other performances from around the world followed by a fireworks show. Being the (former?) band geek that I am, this was to be a highlight of the trip for me. I wasn’t going to let a little rain chase me off. But as we got closer to the entrance – and then sent around the corner to get in the very, very, long line further from the entrance- it began to POUR. This was no longer a little bit of an annoyance but a full-on drenching, wind-blown rain! Kevin stuck it out for a while but as rivers of rain started coming down the street and his shoes thoroughly soaked, he had enough. Back to the hotel for him.

I decided to stick it out. Most everyone else, either in ponchos or under umbrellas, were just taking it all in stride. It made me think about how Americans will head for a stadium to see their favorite football team, come rain or shine. If they can all do it, well then, so can I. I trudged forward, nearly giving up at least once or twice, getting ever so closer to the point of no return and ever so much more soaked. I was even starting to get wet inside my “waterproof” hoody. I had come this far. I can always leave if I’m miserable so on I went. But in my mind I’m thinking “why haven’t they cancelled this yet?”

I knew my seat would be on the top row – that’s all that was available five months before when we bought the tickets. What a surprise - it’s right under the catwalk for the spot lights! I’m not going to get rained on – at least not directly – the wind was still howling, at first from behind, blocked by a wall. But as the night progressed, the wind increased and shifted to blow right in my face at times.

Rather than imagine the rain, see for yourself.

The show was quite a spectacle of pageantry from around the world. Of course, much of it was British Isles-centric. There were also performances from China, India, Switzerland, China (yes, again), among others. There were a couple of performances on behalf of the US. The only US military showing was a small honor guard doing a rifle twirling exhibition. The other US participants were from The Citadel Military College, nicely done. The show-stopper was the Top Secret Drum Corp from Switzerland – A M A Z I N G !!

Here’s a professional vid of them performing (click here if the Youtube video doesn't show):

And then here’s mine:

My apologies for the quality of my videos, I'm just getting the hang of filming.

Additional shots of some of the other performances.

They even managed to pull off the fireworks in the driving rain!

I stuck it out to the bitter(ly cold) end. By the time I got out of the stadium, wouldn’t you know, the rain let up. But still it was a long, wet, clickity-click walk back to the hotel to find Kevin warmly nestled in bed.

Oh! And by the way. Less than a week later, I got an email from the ticket manager who took my bus and sightseeing tickets on “consignment.” She had been able to sell them and a refund was on the way. This would have never happened in the US, I’m sure.

21 August 2015

by Kevin

Friday, we woke to partly cloudy and humid day. Roving showers tested our ability to plan our wardrobes for the day. In the end, we went with our Seattle experience and layered up. On our docket this day was visiting two sites and more if we could: The Royal Yacht Britannia and the Palace at Holyroodhouse. Edinburgh Castle would wait until the next day.

Breakfast at The Place was, well, another interesting adventure that started with high expectations. The breakfast is held in two areas, one at the front of the hotel with nice views of the street scene with all the early morning off-to-work crowd and the other at the back that functions also as a passageway to the part of the hotel in which we were housed. We found seats easily and settled in to take in the morning commute outside our window. The occasional ruggedly handsome, kilted businessman passed by but mostly there were saggy jeans on the young and very tightly tailored jeans of various pedigrees with tasteful jackets on those we could assume were heading to some office. Back to the breakfast.

Once again as had been our experience previously on this trip, the staff seemed nearly out of control with all their rushing about and panicked looks. They appeared to be only capable of doing one thing at a time. First the coffee, then, oh, right, forgot the teas. Overhearing a table of retirees on their way shopping that morning, I gathered they took the matter of not having enough tableware into their own hands and pilfered what then needed from where ever they could. I decided to order something hot, two eggs sunny side up and homemade lamb sausages, as I really don’t like ‘trough food’ that has been sitting out and been handled by the guests. Steven does well enough with the orange juice, toasts, hard-boiled eggs, and charcuterie available. Eventually, my order came after a complete change of diners in our room. The food was pretty good though and I devoured it straight away.

Our first task after food was to go down the hill to Princes Street Gardens and purchase our combined tourist bus and attractions tickets at the blue kiosk by all the buses awaiting their customers. It took a bit to locate the very small, almost hidden and closed looking blue kiosk, which had been described to us by the helpful folks in the tourist office as a blue building. We were looking for something well…more like a building. Our mistake. Having our tickets in hand and glancing at our watches to see when the next bus would take us to the Royal Britannia, we thought we had about 15 minutes wait so we just started to look around the area, take a few pictures and wait. I noticed, when we were about half way down the bridge crossing a long-since drained and filled swamp separating Old Edinburgh from the new, in the shadow of The Scott Monument, that our bus had pulled up…a full 10 minutes ahead of time. Catching Steven’s eye, we rush forward through the aimlessly wandering tourists, establishing our ‘we mean business’ formation and skirted by most of crowd, which somehow had managed to quadruple in size in mere moments.

We were nearly the first on the bus, so we had a good choice of seats. Note to anyone traveling this way to the Britannia, taking the upper deck is worth the effort, if it’s not raining. Being it was threatening rain and very humid, we were quite pleased we’d kneed and elbowed our way on to the top deck….just kidding, no infirm or older adults, children, or pets were harmed during our egress.

The trip out to the mouth of the River Leith where the Britannia is moored at the Ocean Terminal is about 30 minutes by bus and wasn’t all that interesting. I passed the time looking at the guidebook and maps trying to keep up with all the hairpin turns we were making on our way there. I lost track. Steven donned a pair of headphones (provided) to listen to the recorded commentary as we whizzed by the sites; he readily admits that he doesn’t remember of word of it. We arrived slightly refreshed and eager to get on with it.

Cue music: Rule Britannia, Britannia Rule the waves….

The Royal Yacht Britannia has a fascinating history for it’s relatively short time in service to HRH Queen Elizabeth and the Royal family. You can go here to read more if you like: http://www.royalyachtbritannia.co.uk. It is now permanently moored at a modern shopping mall and is a very popular tourist attraction as the crush of buses could attest. Finally on board we passed a very nice short history of the vessel and those who were lucky enough to travel upon her. You know the names: Lizbet and Phil of course, Diana and Charles, the boys, several US Presidents including Clinton #1…perhaps there will be a President Clinton #2????

The assorted pictures here tell something of the experience, but frankly, they can’t convey how stately she appeared even in her waning years. There are the main rooms open to the public, but two additional levels not open to tours and held for overnight guests. The Queen’s and Prince Philip’s bedrooms are across the center hall from each other amidships, the most stable place on any ship. Light colored fabrics in hers, a single bed (no trysts on board I guess), a small working desk. The main dining room ran the width of the vessel and was set as if a party were to soon begin. Just aft from here was a small reception room set up as a champagne bar (yummy) that lead into a large and very comfortable looking living room complete with fireplace. Ah, life aboard must have been sweet.

If you do go, look out for the hidden corgis. Small stuffed versions of the Queen’s favorite dogs are all over the place; some stuck up high on shelves next priceless gifts from on of the former territories or just sitting sprightly on a bed.

There was of course lunch to be had about now, so we climbed up to the Royal Deck Tea Room and were seated quickly. Tea was a must, how could one not? Soups and sandwiches did the trick along with a ginger beer. After a bit of people watching – hoping secretly to see a Titanicesque young child being shown how one folds ones napkins on the lap just so. Alas, we were only treated to see many texting or engaged in some social media postings.

After lunch, we headed to the lower decks. As sumptuous as were the upper quarters, these were just as Spartan and cramped; minimal room for personal belongings and a small cot for each seaman. The various ranks of officers, of course, had more space, if not even their own stateroom. Each level of officers also had their own lounge with bar. These were actually quite nice. After the tour, we disembarked, passing Her Majesty’s beautifully restored tender complete with gold plated lions and shiny brass cleats.

Back down through the mall to find a bus, not a long wait. We decided to next visit The Palace of Holyroodhouse. The twisted journey took us past the Royal Botanic Gardens and back across town near Holyrood Park with its Salisbury Crags and Arthur’s Seat, the ancient volcano, hanging above the city. A hike up that way will have to wait for another visit. We arrived at Holyroodhouse once again rested.

The Palace is a royal residence to this day and known to be one of the final residences of Mary Queen of Scots. Like most well-used castles and great houses, Holyroodhouse Palace was built over successive centuries and it shows. There is little blending of architecture and interior style, with each addition still fairly distinct. You really got the sense of traveling through history while walking the vast, square building finally ending in the oldest part of the palace where Mary was kept.

After walking a bit around the gardens, it was getting late, my back was aching and my feet were humming, so we decided to catch another tour bus that would hopefully end us close to where we were staying. But not until we’ve sat down for a moment for an afternoon tea in the courtyard.

What a surprise to quickly be engulfed in the massive crowds gathered in Edinburgh for The Fringe Festival. The regular bus route was altered to avert the Royal Mile, which was currently used as a giant venue with mini stages set up all along its length. I was particularly grateful to see it all, as colorful and wonderful as it looked, from a slight distance. We ended up crisscrossing several of the cities bridges, each affording us great views. The bus dropped us at the bottom of the old city, and a big hill climb up to the Mile.

Finding our way up the hill to the crowds wasn’t hard…just follow the steady streams of humanity and you’re there. Once back on the Mile we just wandered about; listening to street performers, watching a Japanese troupe entirely clad in white with white faces tease tourists with their trailing white veils, and taking in a local cathedral requisitioned this week for the Fringe.

We popped into St Giles Cathedral for a quick look. We found a flyer for an organ concert on the next night which would have been interesting, but we had other plans.

This kid, couldn't have been more than 12 or 13 years old, was really killin' it up on the Royal Mile.

I was pooped and my back was getting progressively worse, but I knew Steven could go on and on and on. Gracious as he is, I held out probably too long, not wanting to end the day too fast. By time we headed down the long, steep close back to the other side of the city, to make another climb up to our hotel, I needed some down time. We had dinner at an unremarkable Italian place, Amarone. Inside was a great bustle of noise so we chose the more immediate outside seating as it was quite pleasant out still. After dinner we headed back for the evening through the seemingly on-going party in St Andrew Square. A quick stop in the hotel bar for some ice for our nightcap. I enjoyed the last of our gin & tonic while Steven sampled from our otherwise growing collection of mini-bottles of whisky.

by Kevin (mostly, with some additions from Steven)

August 20, 2015

If you are still following us, you’re probably saying, ‘Hey, didn’t I just see these guys at a holiday party?’ And, you’d be right. Yes, we’re taking our time at this, yes we are.

We had a big day ahead of us; lots of miles to cover and a couple of places of interest to visit. We thought it might take us most of the day to get to our destinations, so we set off early…for us. Leaving Elgin after another, though much lighter, breakfast at our Fawlty Towers digs, we, rather I, really wanted to head toward Balmoral. It was a bit of a trick to find a relatively direct route that got us there on our way to our Land Rover Experience and finally into Edinburgh. As you already know, we’ve done little planning on routes or closures, and the like, so after a brief check of the well-creased map of Scotland, we just headed south on the A941, the most direct route we saw.

We’ve mentioned enough about how narrow the roads are and how fast the lorries go no matter how slight the space between oncoming traffic, so I won’t repeat the many small terrors of this trip, only to say I’m glad we made it over the Cairngorm Mountains without any accidents. We actually chose a lesser-traveled route for the more mountainous parts of the trip, so perhaps, that saved us some drama.

Heading out of Elgin at this time of day wasn’t a problem. We dropped down the A941 which took us past Glen Grant, and Macallan distilleries and the Speyside Cooperage, where we changed to the A939. We also passed near the Aberlour Distillery for which we couldn’t get tasting reservation this week but our friends Bruce and Nancy from the QM2 had been two days before – we just missed them. The roadways along this route were at first packed with commuters and lorries of all sizes, apparently getting an early start to work and making their deliveries, but by time we passed Grantown-on-Spey the traffic really thinned out and we collectively took a big sigh of relief. Maybe we could finally put the Mercedes through her paces and open her up on the open Scottish Highland roads?

This route, the A939, took us deep into Cairngorms National Park and through some of the most beautiful lands we’d seen to this point. From the pictures, you’ll see a lack of large trees and plenty of rolling, heather-covered hills carpeted in different hues and saturations of yellow, fading green, and grey-blue. Somehow this more than the other wonderful landscapes of Scotland hit a cord in us…so THIS is what Scotland looks like. Of course, our vision of this Scotland was shaped by American TV…not the least of which for me was American Werewolf in London ‘Stay on the road. Keep clear of the moors.’ Creepy fun to be seeing the highland moors in the ever changing skies of northern Scotland. Just wonderful.

I can’t say we got much of a chance to open up the Mercedes, but we did push it a few times when we could clearly see enough of the roadway ahead to play safely. Admittedly, it was fun to feel the car hug the roads like it did, not flinching at the speed or curves. Several of the vistas pictured here are views from atop a small pass or overlook on the way into the park. These are old mountains; they look and feel enduring.

We stopped briefly to "stretch our legs" in the village of Tomintoul. Among other things, its claim to fame is being the highest village in the Scottish Highlands. It has a checkered past, including reputedly by loathed by Queen Victoria. As she described:  "a tumbledown, miserable, dirty-looking place." These days, it's actually a clean and quaint little village and quite the tourist centre along the Whiskey Trail among the Highlands.

Just outside Tomintoul we really climbed up in elevation. The land slipped away more steeply on the sides of the road and the gloominess set in; a perfect setting. The Lecht Ski Centre was at the very top of the pass, and while it didn’t look like it had the amenities or the size of the resorts of the American Rockies or Cascades for that matter, we could certainly see ourselves having a grand time coming down off the quad chair and into the valleys of the ski centre. However, as we learned from our guide later in the day, it’s hardly worth the trek to get up here in the winter when you could just as easily fly about anywhere in Europe for much better.

Down we went now, still on the A939 until we got to Gairnshiel Lodge, where we turned west onto the much smaller, more ‘country’ sized road, the 8976. This was a cut off to Balmoral; we thought, ‘hey, why not explore the country a little more?’ This short stretch took us past the tiny village of Bush Lawsie and into Crathie, where things definitely took on a more royal look and feel.

Reaching Balmoral we found the front gates closed…what, no greeting party? There were no tour buses in the bus park, so we figured Her Majesty or the kiddies were in residence. We were right. Just a coal delivery truck and several nicely uniformed guards were around. I think I saw some well-armed guards in the woods just beyond the iron fencing, but that could just have been my X-Files weakened brain working overtime.

Even though there were clearly marked signs saying NOT to park in front of the gate area, we did anyway, mostly because I didn’t want to walk the distance from the car park to the gatehouse. Lazy I know…but, we’d been in the car sooo long by then, I just couldn’t wait to get out of it! The shopkeeper at a now converted gatehouse didn’t mention that we should move, probably because he was just as eager to see some humans as we were to get out of that car. We had a pleasant enough chat, with me nervously looking out the window to our car, checking on the guards to make sure they weren’t descending on it or taking it away. We ended up buying a few biscuits and a tea towel, the latter of which now hangs proudly off our oven door. Regrettably, I went for the bargain biscuits thinking that they were from Prince Charles’ own farms and recipe. Nope. I got the sale biscuits, the kind you can pick up just about anywhere in-country.

We had to move fast down the A93 if we were going to make our 12:30pm appointment at the Land Rover Experience just outside Butterstone on the A923. We made it in plenty of time, in fact, we were the first to arrive. You might be asking why in the world would you set up a Land Rover Experience in Scotland anyway? We’ll get to that in a minute.

Apparently, everyone but us knew that the staff lunched from Noon to 1:30pm, so we weren’t exactly greeted with fanfare when we arrived. But, after finding the main entrance...not so easy really as it was facing the lake, not the car park. Anyway, we did sign-in and were sat in the spacious eating hall (that’s the only name I can come up for it)…by ourselves. Soup and salad were on the menu, the lunch we had purchased ahead of time when we booked our experience. We were starved, and even Steven ate most of his soup, which I think was carrot/squash. After this repast we still weren’t sure what to do next. So we waited thinking someone would come get us to start our adventure. No one came so we went back to the lobby. We noticed that others had arrived and were being treated to coffee and tea in front of the fireplace. We hadn’t been asked if we even wanted coffee or tea. Okay, nothing to be bitter about, just a situation of not knowing the protocol of how these things worked. And we continued to wait for a guide.

Okay, so we finally were introduced to our guide – Ruaraidh Carmichael – we called him Rudy. Rudy took us to our white Discovery Sport HSE. Incidentally, we only recently had taken delivery of our own. Here’s where the explanation of why we’d booked this experience comes in. We didn’t know, but when you buy a Land Rover you get a free 2-3 hour ‘experience’ driving your model around a course designed to take advantage of the rig’s capabilities. So, Steven being on that sort of thing, found out through considerable back and forth with Land Rover USA and Land Rover UK, that indeed we COULD transfer our free experience to the Scotland centre. Yeah for us. So, there you go, we booked our time at the Scotland centre with lunch just so we’d have another weird story to tell.

The experience itself was a bit underwhelming at first. Country roads and some sloppy unpaved narrow trails, not much else until we got to an open area with some serious looking hills and water covered paths. It turns out there are several tracks that are specifically designed for specific vehicles. Ours, being a littler, lighter and newest Land Rover model, wasn’t designed for the steepest nor the deepest water traps. Bummer. But we did get to go up and down parts of the route that I would never have done on my own. The first time Rudy showed us the capability we had of letting the car take over controlling the rate of ascent and descent with the Hill Decend feature. We had no idea that we could let off the gas pedal and the car would figure out the proper rate given the steepness of the hill. REALLY cool. We can also use this for launching and retrieving our boat – this will come in really handy! Here's a video of Steven putting it in action.

We each got a chance at this - the uphill and downhill tracks – several times. What fun. Rudy said we needed to move along as others were now coming on the course and wanted to have a go at the climbs. So off we went on the country roads to another part of their course. This time we went higher up into sheep country, having to pass a few gates to get to our track. Steven recalls that Rudy grew up in the area on a sheep farm, and that Rudy said he hated sheep. Apparently, according to Rudy, sheep are the dumbest animals around. No offense to you sheep people, just reporting the facts of Rudy.

We also got great accolades from Rudy on our skill with driving on the “wrong side” of the car. He’s seen people from other left-driving regions that haven’t done as well as us on the course. We chalk it up to a week of practice in a car with much less visibility.

After about 3 hours, or very close to it, we had to get going to Edinburgh to turn in the car by 6pm.

From Butterstone we hightailed it to Dunkeld and caught the main highway, the A9, south toward Perth and on the M90 to the A90, across the Forth Road Bridge and finally into Edinburgh. We did not stop at Deep Sea World in Inverkeithing, which is on the Firth of Forth, to dive with sharks (http://www.deepseaworld.com/shark-dives) – Darn!

Heading into Edinburgh wasn’t a big deal as it turns out. The trusty GPS on the Mercedes got us to our hotel, The Place at York Place. Funny thing, we didn’t see any parking anywhere near the hotel entrance, which was on a main tram and bus line. I was admittedly a little fried from all the driving that day and told Steven to just park the car on the sidewalk, making sure to get enough off the road so we wouldn’t get smashed by buses or cars. Well, we really wanted to make sure not to get the car scratched in the final minutes of rentalship, so he parked solidly on the sidewalk, causing more than a few raised eyebrows from the locals trying to make their way around this black Mercedes blocking their way.

A new bridge is being built across the Firth of Forth, it looks to be quite massive.

Phew. We got checked in fine, Steven went off the return the car (thankfully only ½ block away), leaving me to tend to the bags…which were considerable by then and very heavy. You might not know, but I had been slowly developing a very sore shoulder and back ache since we left Seattle, and by this time I was nearly in tears if I walked too much and lifted just about anything with my right arm. Luckily, the hotel had a strapping young buck of an Italian to assist me getting the bags up four flights of stairs.

Note to self: check on whether your hotel has an elevator if it’s above a couple of stories. The stair climbs were steep and the height of each level was considerably higher than one would think. Just a piece of advice to check out the elevator situation when traveling in the UK, especially if one of your party has been developing twitches and pains.

The room itself was plenty large and comfortable, even by European standards, a fact that the Italian buck commented on when he found out our room number. I didn’t ask further about that little bit of endorsement. I suppose it was a nod to the old and the artsy-new that we found this portrait guarding over our bed.

It was very humid and bordering on being a bit too warm that day, so we threw open the windows a while and just collapsed on the bed, still feeling the hours of motion in our feet. Eventually, we needed food and drink and off we went toward the centre of town. Quite amazingly, this happened to be the night of a city-wide festival. The park, St. Andrew’s Square, was full of food carts, a champagne bar, beer gardens and several music venues. It was really a pleasant surprise to walk into such a party and a great way to start off the final days of our time in Scotland.

We headed further into the center of town looking for a full dinner. We just happened to stumble across Jamie’s Italian by renowned TV chef Jamie Oliver. If you ever find yourself near this place, just keep walking. It’s basically the Cheesecake Factory or Italian food: huge portions, well enough prepared, but not above average, in a large and noisy dining room. Our friends William and Kate in York had been to a smaller Jamie Oliver restaurant elsewhere and said it was quite good, but at the moment we’re not recalling where that one was. The charcuterie platter, however, was quite ample, and could be a meal in itself.

Back to the hotel for the night. Lots of site seeing in the morning.

By Steven

August 19, 2015

A wee dram of whisky by my keyboard is a perfect way to get in the mood to write this next installment. “Why?” you may ask. Well I’ll tell you –this is a day devoted to touring whisky distilleries in the Speyside region.

When putting together our itinerary, Kevin and I specifically targeted finding a couple of night’s accommodation in this area so we could take a mini-tour of the distilleries in the area. In fact, our selection of hotel played into this. The website for the Mansion House Hotel listed on its website, front-and-center, “The Whisky Trail” with listings of many of the distilleries in the area and a promise of “We can help to guide you through by providing information on the distilleries, their opening hours and directions as to how to find them.” After our encounters thus far with the staff here, we don’t hold out much hope for that. So instead we headed for the bank of brochures in the foyer – you know the place, the racks one finds in all the best establishments, often hidden out of view, where you can find brochures on all manner of tourist activities, from horseback riding to the local Dolphin Quest or ziplines. Amongst all these, I found a few distillery pamphlets to look over during breakfast.
OK – this is where you ask why we didn’t plan ahead and already do our research. The answer is simple, we just didn’t. We’re good at planning the big stuff, but the little details just have to happen as they do sometimes. This is one of those times.

We were able to whittle away the possibilities quite quickly. Many were by reservation only and others just too far afield to be practicable with a relatively late start on the day. We narrowed in on two: the first being Strathisla about ½ hour’s drive away in Keith. The other one was a bit closer, Glen Moray back in Elgin that we could hit on the way”home.”

The drive to Keith and finding Strathisla was rather uneventful. Our trusty nav system in the Benz did perfectly – and we actually paid attention to it not thinking we knew better. You have to know when you’re smarter than your car and when you’re not.

As we found out later in our tour, Strathisla is part of the Chivas Regal group, which in-turn is part of Pernod Ricard. Yes, this whisky is made by the same people who make such mainstays as Pernod Fils pastis, Royal Salute, Seagrams and Absolut. Not exactly the boutique distillers we’d hoped to find. The plus side however, is that the Duke of Argyll (you remember him, the Chief of the Campbell Clan) is the Brand Ambassador for Royal Salute, so there is a “family” connection. BTW, Royal Salute’s 45 year old Tribute to Honour blended whisky sells for a mere $195,000 for 70cl (https://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-16905.aspx) of which, the basic Strathisla single malt is the major component. If any of you happen to pick up a bottle on your next spin through a duty free – please share a sip.

Other things we learned on our tour:

1. Most of the barrels used for aging whisky come from America. They’re oak barrels that have been used to make bourbon. By US law, the barrels can only be used once for bourbon. So the Scots by them up for use in making whisky.

2. The height of the neck on the distilling vats makes a difference in the intensity of the flavor of the resulting whisky. See #4 Upper Part of a pot still here: https://www.whisky.com/information/knowledge/production/details/the-scottish-pot-stills.html

3. The water for whisky must always come from a well. However, the excess water from the process must be treated and returned to the nearby river (there’s always a river, that’s how they used to grind the barley). The excess must go into the river within 1 degree C of the temperature of the river to protect wildlife habitats

4. And most importantly – there are sections of the distillery where you can’t take pictures lest the whole place explodes. Consider yourselves warned!

The tour, as per usual, ended with a tasting. We were treated to a flight of whiskies that included two Strathisla single malts the two Chivas Regal blended whiskies.
We made the obligatory pass through the gift shop, resulting in a few purchases followed by a few exterior photos and then it’s off to find lunch.

With nowhere in particular in mind, we just ventured through town and pulled over at the most promising looking spot. Here we found a gem! The Brasserie at The Fife Arms Hotel. Kevin had the Slow Roasted BBQ Brisket with crispy potato skins, red slaw and grilled corn. He was in heaven! I’m not recalling what I had. By the picture, it looks like a pork chop though I don’t see that on the menu. It may have been the daily special. I do remember that it was tasty and hit the spot.
The restaurant is fairly new or at least newly remodeled. So much so that it doesn't even show on Google Maps and the place looks vacant on Street View. Simple, sort of modern-country decor. I loved all the food and drink-centric quotes on the walls. It’s really worth seeking out should you be in the area. It’s very, very good.

No time for dessert – time to hit the road.

On the way out, Kevin kept hoping for a chance to see the seashore, looking out towards the North Sea. So on the way back to Elgin, we did just that. Followed a few signs of the main highway toward the beach and found ourselves at the mouth of the River Spy. Quite. A few others had found the place as well despite the fact that it wasn't a particularly warm, sunny day. Busy, but not terribly crowded…until the bus arrived that is. Clearly too cold to be in the water as no one was venturing in, though I did get a foot soaked by an insistent wave.

We'd best get ourselves moving again if we want to hit one more distillery back in Elgin.

Finding it easily enough tough it seemed like the GPS was taking us on an odd route again. By now it was getting late so no mre tours today. Just as well. If it's anything like touring wineries, they all start to look alike, when it's really just the tasting room you're headed for any way. Fortunately, tasting were still on offer. We each got a flight of there offerings. Nice, but not exceptional. We also enjoyed just having the moment to sit in the quiet courtyard and relax for a few minutes. No purchases here except a gift or two perhaps. We didn't deem the whisky worthy of the effort to bring home.

As we drove through town earlier, we had seen off to a side road some ruins. I believe Kevin had read about them somewhere as well. Turns out to be the remains of a quite significant Cathedral. Maybe not hugely significant historically outside the region, but certainly significant in size. One of the largest of its type ever built.

Unfortunately, we arrive just a lite too late. The grounds were still open but too late for new admission. Some kindly locals tried to help plead our case with the matron, "they'll never be able to come back" and "once in a life time opportunity" said another. The matron while puffing her cigarette was having nothing to do with it. "The Cardinal would have my head. Last time I let someone in late saying they won't be long kept me here an hour after closing. Never again!" Imagine this in a thick Scottish brogue.
We did pop our heads into the gift shop and found out a bit of history. Snapped a few shops over the fence. You can see Mickey was trying to climb over to get in. We caught him just in time.

You can find out more about it here: https://www.historicenvironment.scot/visit-a-place/places/elgin-cathedral/

Back to Mansion House for dinner and an early night. We have a long day tomorrow.

Steven

Tuesday, August 18th

by Kevin

Last Breakfast at The Thistle House Guest House

We were up early to get a start on a very busy day. Tucked in our breakfast, managed to haul all our bags, which had grown precipitously since leaving the QM2, down the steep stairways to the car without incident. Both of us were anxious to get going and leave some time to get to our first destination of the day, the Glencoe Visitor Centre.

Saying goodbye to our hosts, I drove us straightaway up the A815, connecting to the eastbound A83, the same road on which we drove into the Lock Fin and Inveraray area from Glasgow five days earlier. Backtracking just a bit, we turned north at Tarbet and proceeded on the A82. Did we mention how narrow all the roads are? Yes, we did. What a relief it was to once again be on a more generously proportioned roadway today. The sun was peaking through thick clouds and we felt ready for the next adventure.

At Tarbet you get to follow up the west side of Loch Lomond, which is just lovely. The loch comes into view now and again from behind trees and scrub. Every once and a while you get a clear view of the mountains of the Trossachs National Park system. Up we head, speeding along with the traffic, not as nervous about actually going the speed limit now on these wider roads. Still, one never knows exactly when a gargantuan semi tractor-trailer rig will appear from around a sharp corner. We made it unscathed of course, but nerves were on edge I could say that for sure.

After Loch Lomond, heading north, the road buries itself into a series of heavily wooded small river valleys, then bounding up over the occasional small pass, all the while gradually ascending. There isn’t really much to report on for this part of the trip. We just kept going on A82, taking in the Scottish views, thankful of the Mercedes’ road gripping handling.

You have to love the names of some of the towns we passed through: Inverarnan, Inverardran (rival cousin towns perhaps?), Tyndrum, Auch, Bridge of Orchy (a personal favorite – half expecting to see an orc come into view!), and the lovely Loch Tulla. It was just about here, maybe 2 hours into our ride north, that the road bends west and climbs into the mountains leaving behind the lush forests with their thick undergrowth.

This was the first time we’d been into something close to what we know as mountains. Being from Seattle, the Cascades are quite tall for a coastal range and offer many wonderful views. But we don’t have the wide-open high mountain areas that have little or no trees. The bare rock face of the mountains seem to sit on tufts of green, almost as if the green is holding the rocky cliffs aloft so humans can enjoy.

One of the ranges holds Glencoe Mountain, a ski resort of some size. No snow yet, so we just stopped to enjoy the vistas at a road stop and switch drivers. I was over driving on those roads for the time being at least.

Rainbow Mickey at Loch Tulla Viewpoint

You can see Rainbow Mickey really enjoyed the view of Loch Tulla behind us as we began the climb in earnest. It was hard to know which turnout would have the best views, so we just grabbed the one nearest the highest part of the journey. We weren’t alone. Somehow, this place immediately got crowded after we pulled in. Buses and large caravan’s piled with tourists (we know, tourists just like us). But does there have to be so many? We were starving, so we partook of a food truck parked there. I can’t recall what we had. It wasn’t good, but it was hot and washed back with a Coke, palatable, just.

Coming down into a valley we were on the look out for the Glencoe Visitor Centre. No problem finding it. It was well marked and up to the main parking lot we went. We were early, maybe by 30 minutes. The visitor complex looked pretty new. It consisted of a few low, mountain-modernish buildings, connected by raised walkways so not to disturb the natural flow of water in and around the area. A small stream presented itself as we exited the main building while waiting for our tour to begin. We went just a little ways up a trail and came back, mostly because my hip was hurting again, a mysterious pain that crept back now and again demanding I sit down and stretch a little.

We finally got to our tour and ended up being the only ones there. A few other people just didn’t show up, so we had our guide, who we secretly called Groundskeeper Johnny – a play on groundskeeper Willie from the Simpsons, all to ourselves. Score! You’ll hear the similarity in the video.

Let me tell you, the Scotts are a talkative bunch and Johnny was no exception. His Scottish brogue was more than a little enchanting – can I say that? Well, it was. Hearing him retell the local history of Glencoe (emphasis on ‘coe) brought the famous tussle between Steven’s Clan Campbell and Clan McDonald, from whom our Johnny descends. It turns out, that about 30 McDonalds lost their lives trying to escape from the Campbell chief who was empowered by the King of England, James I to collect new taxes. Of course, come into power, much less become a King, and get some cash by taxing the people. Heard this a million times. We dared not mention Steven’s heritage.

Anyway, it wasn’t a ‘massacre’, at least not in my Hollywood tainted mind. A skirmish? Yes. A fiercely independent people escaping into the mountain valleys to get away from a new ruler, only to be frozen or starved? Yes. Not really a massacre. But, in fairness, it was a deeply symbolic event, one that still fuels a few raised pints at the pub recalling the demise of kin.

Groundskeeper Johnny is a highly educated and trained naturalist. He pointed out all the local heathers – pronounced by him, ‘heether’ - (I really didn’t know there were this many varieties) and the invasive species of plants that took over where ever sheep were allowed to graze. There is a balancing act going on between sheep farmers, perfectly at their rights to let their animals graze on the land, and caretakers of the land like Johnny who want th
e high mountains to be as unperturbed as possible, to retain their beauty, and limit human intrusion. Humans brought the sheep after all. The wild goat, well they can stay. They have squatter’s rights apparently.

Mountain Sheep above Glencoe

Way up in the distance we caught one on camera. Barely could make out the dark, very still shape, until some hikers got a bit too close causing the ram to move out of our sight. Besides the flora and fauna, Johnny let us in on a bit of natural history we would never have guessed unless being told. The area you see in the pictures is actually the remnants of a collapsed caldera. In fact, the whole of what looks like a wandering valley with high mountain cliffs is really the ring of a caldera. Johnny waxed on a bit too much when he compared it to Yellowstone, but he laughed too at himself for saying that. The joke was that Yellowstone is sitting atop a seething mass of magma, where Glencoe is quite extinct, though there are still earthquakes now and then. We thought that was all pretty nifty.

We stopped to take this picture of Johnny and me. Steven doesn’t know what exactly happened, but I’m disincorporating with only my head left, and Johnny isn’t far behind. Maybe the faeries were having fun?

Kevin and Groundskeeper Johnny

We thought initially that the Glencoe Visitor Centre was part of a national park system. It turns that the centre and surrounding area is owned by the National Trust of Scotland. If you’re familiar with the Nature Conservancy in the US, it’s a very similar concept. It’s an non-profit that buys land and heritage sites for preservation and conservation. Pretty cool. Check out more: http://www.nts.org.uk/

The next big site was of Ben Nevis, Scotland’s highest peak. Steven was driving as we passed Fort William on the very northern end of Loch Linnhe where Ben Nevis comes into view. I tried to take a picture but couldn’t get it and there was no turnout here for us to pull over. Remember, narrow roads and crazy-speeding drivers. It wasn’t safe to just pull over unfortunately.

Speeding now farther north, still on the A82 believe it or not, we whiz by Loch Oich and onto the famous Loch Ness!!!

Fort Augustus is at the bottom, or south end, of Loch Ness and has pretty nice set of attractions all on its own. There are plenty of sightseeing tours available, a few snack shops and a set of locks that are pretty nice. Its called the Caledonian Canal and its five locks cascade down like a river into Loch Ness. Very much worth the short walk from the car park. Oh, and we saw our first Nessie kitsch too…the wire Nessie in the middle of the park. We only wish we’d seen it in full bloom. We walked around the village just a little, we both needed to get out of that car and get some snack of some kind. After much searching and internal debating, we both settled on Café Americano’s from a vending machine. My, my how far we have fallen from the silver trays and white-gloved service on the QM2.

Mickey with baby Nessy

So off we were, up the A82 some more
sliding up the west side of Loch Ness, Steven still driving. Now, you’re going to call me crazy, but just as we made a bend, not too far from where the picture was taken of a castle across the Loch, I swear I saw a black hump in the water and then it was gone when I was able to see the same area again after rounding another bend. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Steven just smiled. “Yes, dear, of course you saw Nessie.”

I think he was secretly jealous.

Loch Ness

Okay, the Loch is really beautiful. I wish we could have stayed over someplace for the night, but there really aren’t that many places to stay. You have to go to the bigger city past north of the Loch, Inverness.

Speaking of Inverness…avoid it. I know there is some quaint seaside atmosphere down by the water, but it’s nuts with clogged roads and an over abundance of lorry’s. Maybe you’ll have better luck with Inverness than we did, but we shot through town not looking back. Oh, we couldn’t look back otherwise we would have been sideswiped by a truck…err lorry.

The next stop, our accommodations for the evening in Elgin at the Mansion House Hotel. I insisted that we stay at one castle while in Scotland. Turns out, they are very expensive and the nicer ones are either booked up with August weddings or so far out of our price range that we couldn’t justify it.

Getting to the Mansion was a funny adventure on its own. Our typically trusty navigation system on the Benz, led us down what can only be described as a back alley. We think it was the best route as the crow flies, but it took us into lanes that would almost not accommodate our car, much less a car and a dog or cat. Finally, though, over a little footbridge-sized passage over a diminutive creek and we were there.

Ah, the Mansion House, what we will jointly refer to forever, as Scotland’s very own Faulty Towers. More on this later. You’re going to love it.

Hello again! We hope these posts continue to hold your interest. It’s been well over a month since our trip ended but we still have more than a week’s worth of travels to write about. By reading comments or asking questions on these posts, for the most part, is the only way we know whether or not anyone is continuing to read these. We’re also still looking for feedback that we can incorporate into a full-fledged food and travel blog to go public with. So please let us know how we’re doing.
Thank you for your time….and now back to our regular scheduled programming.

Monday, August 17th

by Steven

We decided to take it a little easy today. Tomorrow will be a long day on the road so this is a good change to relax and not do much. We do have a couple things on the agenda, but nothing too difficult so a slow start to the day is in order.

Breakfast as usual and then most of the morning was spent in the salon at the Thistle. Catching up on email, working in a couple blog posts and editing photos. It’s amazing how much time that all takes! It wasn’t long before we had gone through a couple pots of coffee that Jennifer graciously brought for us and then it was nearly lunch time.

In the meanwhile, it turned from a rather grey morning into a beautifully sunny and calm day. As you can see from the photo, the Loch was perfectly still, offering mirror reflections of the village and castle of Inveraray across the water. As amazed as we were at the stillness of the water, Jennifer was just as unimpressed as if it happens every day. Nevertheless, out comes the camera for a few more dozen photos that need to be edited.

So those things on our actual agenda, as it were, for today. First up, a stroll through Inveraray village to see the shops and grab some lunch. Next is for me alone. I haven’t had much chance to get exercise on this trip (don’t get me started about the rowing machine on the QM2!) so was planning a hike up the hill out from the castle up to the look-out that you can see in the photos above.
I’m not going to have too many more opportunities to wear it during this trip, so why not put on the kilt for hike in the highlands? Why not, indeed! So that just what I did, as Kevin’s eyes roll back in his head – and not just because he’s going hypoglycemic waiting for me to get ready to go for lunch. Then off we had back around the Loch after a quick take on eateries from our hostess at the Thistle. Her suggestion would have been Samphire Seafood Restaurant, but unfortunately, was closed today. We wish we had put this on our schedule earlier as it looks and sounds quite good. As it turns out, according to Jennifer, the reason it’s closed today is that the chef/owner is hosting a special event for a number of Michelin 4 & 5 star chefs from around Europe – top secret intell. Definitely on the to-do list if we ever return.

Back in the village, first order of business is finding food. Most things of interest, besides Samphire are closed. But off a little side street/alley we find a little café that appears to be more populated by locals than tourists and tour buses. Simply called the Cottage Restaurant, just off the main street, this little hole-in-the-wall offered up a menu of basic, comfort food. Kevin chose an au gratin dish with cod and langoustine. I just went for the baked potato roasted mushrooms. Nothing fancy but sure hit the spot, as they say.

The restaurant was tiny! It seemed to be in the cellar of
some larger building, but as you can see from the Street View shot, there really isn’t much to the place. You enter off the alley a few steps down into a long and narrow dining room. Cozy and warm, it would be a great place to just hang out with a pot of tea or coffee on a cold and stormy Scotland winter day. There’s also a small bar (hence the “license” on the side of the building) that could easily add something more interesting to that said coffee.
After lunch, it’s back to checking out the shops in town. The Christmas shop just around the corner was a bust but moving next door to the whisky shop proved more interesting. Shelf upon shelf of whisky from all over Scotland. So many bottles, so little time! The young many showing us around was quite informative and enthusiastic about the various whisky in stock. He explained a bit about the regional differences in distillation, drying of the malt, etc., bits of which we heard before but it's now all starting to sink in and make more sense. Perhaps we'll do a separate post dedicated to just what we've learned about whisky.

One new thing we were exposed to here at the Loch Fyne Whisky Shop and Tasting Room was the Living Cask. Perhaps this is just a contrivance for us tourists but nonetheless we found interesting. The living cask blended whisky that will never be the same from cask to cask or batch to batch. Each bottling will be unique. They stake a small oak cask, perhaps used to make a batch of American Bourbon (which, by law, can only be used once for American bourbon), and age some whisky in it. As the whisky is bottled, more is added. As the cask ages, the character of the whisky it produces changes. From Lock Fyne Whisky: "…the current batch contains five single malts from Islay. Stocks are topped up and then left to marry before the next batch – with its unique batch number - is released. These batches are always limited, always different…”

So being the perhaps gullible tourists we are, we buy a 1/2 liter bottle thinking it will be fun to have something so unique. We've yet to open it tough we did have a taste in the shop. That was fairly early on in our whisky education so it will be interesting to see if we feel the same about it when we crack it open.

There are a few other stores open along the way here and around the small village. We poked our head in a few but most were just more of the same basic schlokie souvenir shops. Set a little away from everything else just as you enter town we found a woolen mills "factory outlet" store. This had a little bit higher quality finds so we ended up with a few items to bring home.

What do you think the odd are that this old sailboat could make it back to Seattle? I bet the seller is more negotiable than the sign suggest.

By now it was starting to get late in the day and I still haven't made my trek up the mountain. So back to the car to change into some appropriate footwear and make the short drive back to the castle. A quick check with the lady at the parking lot ticket booth confirmed what I'd been told by others that it would take 1 1/2 to 2 hours to make the round trip. She, too, checked to make sure I had on hiking shoes and nothing fancy (she liked the kilt though). If a 70+ year old lady can make it in that time as she says she does with her husband, I've got a chance at it too. And if I take any longer, Kevin may not be able to get back to the parking lot to get me. So now the challenge is on to make that happen!

The ticket lady also confirmed where the trail head was. We had seen it when we were here a couple days ago but now certain. Off I go.

The trail starts off easy enough though the woods. Past some old ruins of stone buildings of uncertain age but clearly not used for quite some time, centuries perhaps? A little further along, the trail comes to a clearing for power lines where I find more sheep leisurely graving, hardly giving me a second thought. Once across the clearing and through another gate, the trail begins to steepen. Not by much, just enough to let you know you're climbing a hill. In and out of the woods with the occasional stream or spring. Not many other hikers out and about this late. I don't see anyone ahead or behind, just a few passing me on there way back down.

Just as I hope, I made the summit in 45 minutes. This gave me a little time to be at the top to enjoy the view and take a few pics before heading down. As you can image, if not see by the photo, this spot offers a commanding view up and down the loch. Not a surprise they would put a lookout up here. I can't imagine how miserable it could have been for the sentry assign here during the winter months! It's a small, windy knoll with only the small stone lookout. It looks as though the north-facing portal was bricked/stoned in at some point, perhaps to shield from the north wind. Hard to imagine a winter attack across the mountains to the north, so I guess no harm in not seeing out that way.

The walk back down by the same route only took 30 minutes as I had expected. Just as I arrived at our appointed rendezvous point, Kevin drives up. Perfect timing.
Back to the Thistle for a freshen-up, which, of course, includes a G&T, before heading for dinner. Many of the restaurants in the area are closed on Mondays so our options are limited. There is one, however, just down the road, that's open Jennifer had recommended it and it always looked busy when we drove to and from Out Of The Blue. Also at Jennifer's suggestion, a call for reservations was in order.

Some deer treated us to a visit while we chatted in the parlor before disappearing back into the woods.

Apparently we were lucky to get in as the person on the phone didn't want to take any more reservations because they were too busy but reluctantly offered up a table as long as we agreed to be out by such-and-such time. Normally, we would have said "no thank you" to that but with so few other choices and the allotted time certainly being sufficient, we agreed. We're off to The Creggans Inn (http://www.creggans-inn.co.uk/).

This turned out to be a rather uneventful dinner, though the food was was quite good. Here's the menu. Kevin started with the Chicken Liver Parfait with port wine plum compote and toasted brioche, just the kind of thing he would like, and he did. I started with the Hand Dived Loch Fyne Scallops with Black Pudding. I always love a well-cooked scallop! And these were just that. I’ve “gotten used to” the black pudding, it can be good, but you sure don’t need much. I’m not really sure how to describe the taste other than to say it’s quite rich. For the sake of my vegetarian friends, I won’t go into what it’s made from, but feel free to ask me about it.

Appetizers were followed by Roasted Salmon with Linguine for Kevin. The Pan Fried Rib-Eye for me. The salmon, as you can see, had a very unfortunate plating. What’s up with those brown schmears around the rim?? They certainly didn’t add to the visual appeal of the dish, but taste-wise, spot on. The rib-eye for me was an easy choice. It didn’t look like much for presentation either. It looked like something from any roadside diner in America. However, the steak was perfectly cooked and how can you go wrong with peppercorn sauce on a rare steak? I had been looking forward to trying some of the famed Scottish beef, this was certainly not a letdown.

We don’t often go for the deserts but a couple options looked too good to pass up. For Kevin, the Warm Sticky Toffee Pudding. As I just now asked Kevin what he thought of it, I got a deep sigh of fondness. Enough said. I had the Dark Chocolate Marquise which was quite good in its own right, but once again, the presentation a little lacking.

In all, we’d probably go back to Creggans Inn if we were back in the area, but it may not be our first choice.

Not much to do otherwise on Monday night on Loch Fyne, we headed back to the Thistle for a night cap before getting ourselves packed up. The next day will be long, so we need to get up early and get on the road.

Next up is our trip to Glencoe, Loch Ness, Inverness and Elgin. But for now, a good night.

Scotland - Trip to Oban

As promised, the continuation of our journey to Oban. We won't subject you all to the tedium of reading about the rest of the day as written by the two of us. From here on, it's all Steven's doing.

You can refresh your memory on the route we took by taking a quick look once again at the map on our last post by clicking here.

by Steven -

Another short piece up the road and it's "look there's a castle!" Just barely over a mile it's another Historic Scotland signs, this one for Cassanerie Castle, construction starting in 1565. We park and head up the hill to the castle, or so we thought. Trying to follow the signs did not work. We ended up in a field 100 yards from the castle with a fence and cattle between us and it. Back down the hill, we try a different (unmarked) fork and soon find a gate leading to a trail further up the hill and some other confused tourists. All together, we manage to find our way.

It's claims to fame include being the location where a Bishop Carswell translated John Knox's Book of Common Order into Gaelic, becoming the first book printed in Gaelic. Otherwise, the castle is notable as being part of the Campbell legacy (what isn't around here?). In 1685, the castle was destroyed as retribution by Royalists for the 9th Earl of Argyll's (head of Campbell clan) rebellion against James VII of Scotland (aka James the II of England). It seems like a small place but apparently was set up for substantial accommodation. Today, the roofs, woodwork, and most of the floors, are all gone. Just some walls of the main section and two towers. I left Kevin down below as I climbed the smaller of the two towers. It was interesting to see the change in the steps as I went up the spiral staircase. The first run was all rough-hewn coming from the lower levers and cellar to what would have been the main floor. From there up two floors were finely cut stone, smooth and even. Beyond the "living" floors going up to probably more servant/guard rooms and a look out at the top was once again rough-hewed. Clearly the expense was put into what would be seen by the owner and guests, The servants can deal with the cheap stuff. Nice view of the surround countryside from the top and looking back down into the shell of the castle. A few other tourists looking out from the top of the other tower. I try to get Kevin's attention down below, but without yelling loudly, no luck. I head back down and find Kevin, both of us ready to move along.

Back on the road again and the day starting to get long we don't make many more stops along the way to Oban except for a couple scenic photo ops.

We arrived in Oban around 3:00 with the GPS trying to get us to the Oban Distillery. It may have known the way just fine, but we didn't quite believe it or we just couldn't make sense of what she was saying vs what we were seeing. But after a few extra turns, we find it and then find parking. The distillery was a bust. Too late to catch any more tours. They had reached their quota of tours for the day and the tasting room was closed for lack of staff and the lateness of hour. Yes, 3:00 is late apparently! So what to do with nearly 4 hours until our dinner reservation? We decide to explore.

The town of Oban is set on a picturesque little bay on one side with a steep hill on the other. The waterfront has a promenade of sorts along the harbor front with cafes, shops, and hotels facing the bay from the other side of the main street. Around to the side of the bay is a set of modern tourist shops, more restaurants, the train station and a very busy ferry port. This is the area with the restaurant, Waterfront Fishouse Restaurant, where we have our reservation. A recommendation from my rowing mate, Chris, who had just been here a few weeks before - thanks Chris! But more about this later, we still have over 3 hours until dinner time and we're hungry already. Remember we didn't have lunch by this time.
We checked to see if we could get in early but they didn't open until 5pm so we wandered around a bit more. Both of us getting a little cranky for lack of food but very few options available, too late for lunch and too early for dinner. Then we found a wondrous thing, the Oban Seafood Hut. Just a little shack next to the ferry terminal. You order at the counter and the guy out front starts steaming the muscles in one pot while boiling the shrimp in another. Someone back inside starts shucking oysters. Oysters on the half shell, steamed mussels and clam, boiled local shrimp. Just one long, very full, table out front to sit or stand and dig in. We saw others with beer and wine but couldn't figure out where they were getting them as this place wasn't fully licensed for such. The food was perfect, this hit the spot. After devouring a fair amount of these delicacies (you'd think we'd get tired of this - NOPE!) we felt better but still had plenty of time before eating again but now in need of a beer.

A short, lazy walk back around to the main street gave us plenty of pub options. Found one that looked good and leisurely sipped a couple pints.

The Fishouse is now open so we head over for dinner rather than waiting another hour. There really was nothing else to do as most of the shops were closed or closing, nothing we really had any interest in anyway. The restaurant was quite accommodating and sat us early. Only a few tables seated when we got there but the place filled in quickly. Chris gave us the name of the manager to say "Hi" to but tonight was the first night he's taken off in weeks according to our server.

So, what did we have here?

• Salt and Chilli Squid (that's not a typo, they spell chili with two 'L's')
• Crispy Fried Cajun Prawns
• Stone Bass Fillet
• Roasted Scrabster Landed Cod Fillet

Check out the menu for full descriptions.The restaurant itself was fairly casual, which is fine, and surrounded by big windows looking out at both the town and the harbor across the ferry terminal. Several ferries came and went as we dined. Despite the somewhat humble atmosphere of the restaurant the food was really quite good, on par with so many of the other places we've been so far on this trip. Fresh, local ingredients, well prepared. A little pricey but not outrageous or out of line with other restaurants with a menu of this quality. Staff was friendly, informed and helpful. By the time we get done with dinner there was still plenty of light in the sky but we know it will be gone soon. Being none too eager to drive back to the Thistle in the dark, we hit the road. As you can see by the map above we were taking a circle route so as not to double back on ourselves. The way back being the shorter of the two directions so we were able to make it back quite quickly. No stops along the way to see sights, unfortunately, but it's already been a long day and ready to get back "home." We get back to the Thistle just in time for a magnificent sunset over Loch Fyne.

Both of us started writing up this next section of the trip not knowing that the other had already begun. Since a fair amount of it was double-written already, we thought we would include both to show how we each experienced the day a little differently even though we were together throughout. Feel free to read both, either or any combination thereof.

In the text below, Steven will be on the left and Kevin on the right.

Here's a map of where our travels are taking us on this day to give a little perspective.

We scheduled four nights at Thistle House, which, if you know how you typically travel, is an extended time for us to be in one place. We did this for two reasons: because we didn't want be constantly on the move but also because we felt this to be fairly well located for making day-trips around the area. As it turned out, we kept ourselves pretty busy staying close to "home" for the most part but today we're venturing further out. Off to Oban it is.

K: Up ‘early’ – for us that tended to be just before the breakfast service was over – and off to Oban after tucking in more of the hearty Scottish fare – black pudding and haggis fried, crunchy good, but really too much richness for that early in the day. We decided to take a tour of the countryside and headed back through Inveraray on A83 toward Lochgilphead and then up the coast to Oban on A816. We thought the ride would all be as beautiful as the Lock Fyne and Inveraray area was, but we quickly discovered the working part of the countryside included all the elements Disney would never want you to see. Of course we knew someplace in our heads that trees were being farmed, cement was created, and quarries existed, we just didn’t think of it until we passed through this area. We had decided against driving all the way down to Campbell town, in spite of the strong recommendation by a local. We’d heard that Campbell town was pretty run down and not worth the drive. Given how long our drive turned out to be just to get to Oban, I’m glad we didn’t venture south any more than we did.

S: According to Google Maps, this should be 80 miles taking only 2 hrs. Piece of cake, right? But we decided to get an early start of it just the same. So first things first, gotta get down to breakfast before it's too late. The usual fare; still delicious. We’re certainly not the first down this morning, but not the last either. We're struck once again by the variety of languages heard around the breakfast room but still not a lot of conversation between tables with everyone keeping to their selves.

Once we have ourselves together, it's time to head out. Back around Loch Fyne and past Inveraray Castle and on down the loch. Not many sites to stop and see along the way but do venture off the main road on occasion to see what can be seen.

Stopped at one little road house/garden nursery for some tea for the road. Nice views of the loch and surprised to see a few scuba divers heading into the water. Would certainly be interesting to see what's down there but that will have to wait for a return trip and a firmer commitment to dry-suit diving!

Onward we go with a detour here or there to a random side-street or two, much to Kevin's dismay. After all, you have to get off the beaten path to see the real county, right? No problem that we end up basically in people's driveways earning us the occasional quizzical stare from the locals. Another detour took us off looking for a castle ruin marked on the map but all we found was a construction company's truck yard, oh well! Back to the road.

K: Lochgilphead promised to be lovely Victorian seaside village…unfortunately, it was virtually shut down being Sunday and all. To be honest, we didn’t really think of that as we planned the day. We missed seeing Kilmory Castle and Gardens and the Celtic Cross someplace in town. Nowhere to eat lunch, not much charm, and a seaside that looked a bit depressing. I know, how can a seaside look gloomy? This one did is all I can say. Off with us and up the coast to Oban, but on the way we decided to get off road a bit and try to find a lookout Jennifer had mentioned. The first place Steven turned off headed up a fire road, not looking too promising. I was getting a bit worried that we’d get stuck on a rut in the road, we had a low riding Mercedes C Class after all. Just as we were about to turn around…eureka, there was a park that turned out to be the trailhead for loads of trails into the hills. We weren’t outfitted for a long hike so we chose a smallish one (well, to be honest a very short one) into the woods, thinking that it might get us to some view of the valley. At least that was the hope. Nope. The trail just kept going but never up to any viewpoint. Steven ambled on a bit further than I, but no go, no view. We stopped now and again just to enjoy the air and all the really lovely wildflowers and stone walls. By time we got back to the parking area it was absolutely filled with old Land Rovers and Range Rovers, and I do mean old – say 1950’s and nothing newer than the 70’s. I walked over to one of the guys…they were all guys…and casually asked what was up. It turned out to be a monthly gathering of all the local fire fighters and rescue workers. They have a sort of jamboree of Land Rovers and hang out, then head up onto the off-roading areas. Steven was getting bitten by some midges we think, so we head on soon thereafter.

S: Further along we see ano
ther enticing diversion. This time it was a Historic Scotland sign pointing to something called Achnabreck. The drive up the road didn't look too promising, looked more like a logging road than anything else. But we found a parking lot that looked like what we would expect with interpretive signs and a few tables. Just one other car/couple when we arrived, they soon left. We take a look around at the interpretive signs and decide to follow one of the marked trails which started off nice enough but didn't hold our attention for long. The interpretive signs mentioned the ancient Achnabeck Cup and Ring Marks but it looked to be a bit of a hike from where we were. We head back to the car to find that the parking lot is now nearly full. We were only there for maybe 15 minutes. Turns out we stumbled into a gathering or off-road rally of the local search and rescue team/Land Rover club. Had a nice chat with one of them about the differences between US and UK versions of Land Rovers and "vintage" vs new. This gentleman had more than a few opinions on the matter. Lest we get a full lessons on Land Rover technology and construction we made our move to head on.

Another historic marker catches our attention a little further up the road. This one is the Nether Largie standing stones. We find the small car park and follow the signs across the road, over a babbling brook, and into an open pasture. The information sign tells that these vertically standing stones were most likely a form of calendar, much like Stonehenge (though MUCH smaller) or some of the other standing stones in the Salisbury area of England. Arrange in a X pattern with a couple further away. It's estimated that these were placed as far back as 3,200 - 4,700 years ago. The inscription further read that the stones provide protection for those who camp nearby but bad fortune for anyone who touches them - better safe than sorry, so no touchy! Moving along to get a closer look at the stones, we're "greeted" by the local sheep herd. I wouldn't say they necessarily welcomed our presence but they minded their own business of eating the grass and scratching themselves on the ancient stones (I hope the curse doesn't pertain to them!) but mainly moving away whenever we get near - just as well, I say. The carvings in the stone were quite fascinating and it's always fun at places such as this to imagine what it would have been like to be here when it was known what they were intended to be, to "get into the mind" of those who placed them. At the same time, I have to wonder, were those really deliberate, meaningful markings, or was it just some bored kid practicing his/her carving skills, graffiti as it were. I suppose we'll never know.

K: In another spontaneous turn off the road, Steven found us a great ancient stone sight, the Nether Largie Standing Stones. Keep in mind the narrowness of the roads in general…this was just barely a path. We had to turn out into some brush to let cars and lorries go by; a little unnerving but no harm done. Having successfully parked, we found the short trail across the road/path, over a little stream, and on to an open field where the stones were. The stones were hidden for centuries but deforesting and farming brought them into site once again. The placard stated this unusual X formation might be one of the most important lunar calendar sites in Britain going back some 3,200 years or so. We were just about the only ones there…excepting for the gathering of very self-possessed sheep. These sheep knew we were the interlopers, make no mistake, but they didn’t really want us close to them. Fine by me. Steven got some good shots with his telephoto lens though. The stones were not only majestic but hauntingly beautiful set as they were in a flat plane, once the edge of the sea, surrounded by a v-shaped valley of low lying hills. Older trees dotted the landscape make this site was a real find. I paid attention to the posted information saying not to touch the stones as they were thought to be protected by a spell that would bring misfortune to the person silly enough to test it. Well, not long and a small group of tourists came up and promptly began feeling up the stones with abandon. I wonder how they fared.

S: As we're about to head back to the car, another couple walks up and starts touching the stones and feeling the carvings (the tall one pictured above). I hope they're heading the other direction down the highway later. Their bad luck almost happened right there and then however - I was about to take a picture of that particular stone from a few feet away when they walked up between me, with my camera to my eye, and the stone - and then wouldn't leave....wouldn't leave...wouldn't leave...hand me a rock...finally they move just in time.

K: We got back on the main road, passing through the village of Kilmartin where we stopped to visit the church…and of course its cemetery.

S: Next stop was the town of Kilmartin. Perhaps, we're not sure, this was the plac
e which Jennifer (our proprietor at the guest house) was suggesting we visit as a historic place where the kings of ancient Scotland were traditionally crowned. This is a tidy little village up on a ridge about the valley of Kilmartin Glen. There's a ancient church here with its even older cemetery. We parked in a little neighborhood just off the maid road and walked over to the church and wandered about the cemetery. Some headstone were fairly recent (within the past 150 years) while others back to at least the 1600's. Inside the small church were some commemorative plaques for various notable Campbells. The date were nearly 100 years after my Campbell ancestors left the area, so probably not much need to spend time researching any possible connections.

We give a miss to the museum and the cafe didn't look too interesting so after a spin through the gift shop and a few more photos of the village, it's back to the car to hit the road once more.

This is as far as we got when we realized we were duplicating efforts - how's that for communication?

Steven will write about the rest of the day in the next post.

Ciao for now!

Saturday morning, Aug. 15^th

by Kevin (and some by Steven) -

We ambled down to breakfast at Thistle House. The room is bright and clean with yellow walls, white trim, and white furnishings…and we were the only ones there. It was a little odd being the only ones there for a while, but soon enough another couple came in said hello in some heavy accent and sat down turning to talk to each other. This scenario repeated itself during our stay. It seemed that the couples or friends traveling together kept to themselves. So much for the adage of ‘stay at a B&B and meet new friends!’ Some of it was language no doubt as most of those staying at Thistle were Russian or French and spoke almost no English…at least to us or the staff. Some of this keeping to oneself could have to do with the arrangement of the tables, most of them being set up for two not a communal table where you’re forced to interact. Nonetheless, I do wonder if that time when connections and friendships were made at these small homes converted to B&B use hasn’t just simply passed.

The breakfast spread had a few offerings we would see just about everywhere we went in the next two weeks: Full Scottish, omelets, ala carte oatmeal (porridge), streaky bacon, and various smoked fishes – most commonly salmon and cod and a few times kippers - yum. In addition there were breads, yogurts (plain for me please), granola, and of course teas and coffees – white or black? We ended up varying our breakfasts, but did have the Full Scottish, smoked salmon (I had that since Steven would definitely turn up his nose at it) and fresh fruit with yogurt and granola a few times. Toward the end of our stay I was pretty over the big breakfasts and went with plain old porridge, which suited me just fine.

So while we didn’t meet new friends at Thistle, it became our home for a few days. We ‘moved in’ easily to the main living room, at times setting up some of the space to use for writing this blog. Sometimes no writing was done, instead we shared a glass of a newly acquired whisky or two in the evenings. It was in the living room that more conversations with guests happened. As you can see, it’s really a very pleasant place with generous couches and comfortable seating. Our hosts Jennifer and Alistair provided glassware ro whisky and wine in case guests wanted to bring their own tasty beverages. We met a particularly happy group (two couples from England) who gave us some pointers on what to see and avoid, where to eat and not. They were well into their bottles of wine so possibly this provided the necessary lubrication for conversation. Unfortunately, they did leave a couple of rather humble wines for others to enjoy…I’m being generous by using ‘humble’…think of Bigfoot wines. What they didn't finish they left for others – these bottles remained untouched for the rest of our stay.

One place to eat just about everyone mentioned at Thistle and in our research before the trip was the Loch Fyne Oyster Bar located at the very northern tip of the loch. We had to pass it on our way to Inveraray so it was pretty convenient for us. We made a reservation ahead of time for lunch on Saturday, Aug. 15^th and I’m glad we did. But before getting into that food adventure, it’s worth mentioning our visit to the seat of the clan Campbell at Inveraray Castle.

This was Steven’s day to go full kilt, which involves gathering a lot of pieces and putting them on just so. The whole dressing in a kilt process takes about 45 minutes, just fyi, but it is worth it. Soon enough off we were, heading out just before 10am taking the A83 past the Oyster Bar and into Inveraray.

Inveraray Castle, Argyll Scotland

Inveraray and Inveraray Castle were top destinations for us. You might know that Steven and I spent several months researching, looking at websites, and deciding on our itinerary for this trip. The QM2 part and visiting friends were no-brainers, these were non-negotiable given our time frame of three weeks plus a couple of days. One of the driving or organizing principles for our trip was exploring some of Steven’s Scottish heritage. He’s been using Ancestry.com for quite some time and for those of you who know Ancestry, at some point or another you’re going to find a link way back to someone of note. I have to admit teasing Steven mercilessly about his spurious connections, especially when Charlemagne, Jesus, and Cleopatra came up.

It was inevitable then that we’d spend a good amount of time exploring Campbell territory in the area of Scotland known as Argyll. Steven’s grandmother on his father’s side was a Campbell as well as a Great Grandmother of different lineage, also on his father’s side. This connection to Scotland and the seat of the Campbell clan was Steven’s inspiration for having a kilt made – in Campbell tartan.

Coming up the highway (A83) leads you over the Aray Bridge with a picture perfect view of the castle. You drive a little past the bridge and take a right onto the castle approach. We got there pretty close to opening at 10am, but before most of tour buses. With pre-purchased tickets in hand we parked the Mercedes, thinking to make sure to have our umbrellas since the skies weren’t looking too happy at that moment. As a side note, we did make some reservations for meals and sites like this ahead of time as this was the height of tourist season and we didn’t want to just roll the dice and see what we got. Again, I’m glad we did.

Any of you Downton Abbey fans may recognize Inveraray Castle from the 2012 Christmas episode. This is the episode where the Grantham family visits their cousins, the Marquess and Marchioness of Flintshire, at "Duneagle Castle."

Here’s Steven striking a pose on the gravel courtyard in front of Inveraray Castle.
Quite handsome I think, but I’m biased. Heading into the castle we were met by a delightfully chatty docent or guide by the name of Stafford Day. He told us of the origin of the entry way we passed as being constructed for the visit of Queen Victoria, mother-in-law of John Campbell, 9^th Duke of Argyll, the holder of Inverary Castle at the time. The original entrance was on the opposite side, actually more suitable to the grand approach in the original layout of the house and grounds. Victoria however, apparently really didn’t countenance getting wet from the Scottish weather, so the Duke had constructed for her visit an iron and glass entry – incidentally designed by the same man who designed the Crystal Palace in London, Sir Joseph Paxton - thus moving the entrance from its original position on the castle. I guess the queen gets what the queen wants. A bus load just arrived so we quickly moved on inside but not before noticing the French couple we met at breakfast.

The inside of the castle is well documented online (http://www.inveraray-castle.com) and in many brochures so we won’t go into the particulars too much. Just to point out a few of the highlights we encountered. The great hall, loaded with swords and sabers, armor on the landings, and a haunted bedroom (pictured below). Personally, I think a sure sign of a haunting is the presence of a creepy doll.Steven and I noticed that much of the color of paint on the walls in the castle was very, very close to those in our own home. I guess that’s because we watch Downton Abbey and were inspired by the period colors that are throughout Inveraray Castle. The combination of soft blue, yellow, and corral is soothing we think – we are lacking the Pompeii-inspired painted panels however. Like most great homes in the UK it is chock full of collected works and personal items from the current owners. See if you can spot Rainbow Mickey.

Of course, we would have been remiss if we didn't visit the kitchen. Thank goodness for modern appliances!!

After dodging the tourists for a couple of hours, it was time for pre-lunch. In the lower level there is a gift shop, a place to buy some food and take your lunch as well as the original kitchen with its massive copper pots and molds. Hale lobster was on the menu, a specialty of the region, but we stuck to simpler fare; soup and teas. After, some shopping was in order in the gift store. We ventured out to the gardens eventually, but not after retrieving our umbrellas from the car…which of course did not make into our packs. Didn’t you check on that? The wait did us good though as I was getting cranky and needed a sit down…a nap would have done me better I’m sure. We headed out to the gardens, Steven snapping some shots as did I. I think the most impressive part of the gardens are the wood. It’s not a grand place in terms of acres, but it was peaceful and relaxing just to walk under the boughs of all the mature trees. I particularly liked the circle of old trees we found. Standing in the middle and looking up was like being in a sacred space, a cathedral of nature.

We had some time to kill before our lunch at the Oyster House, so we ventured down a path adjacent to the car park toward the overlook. A wide roadway of gravel stretched out to what looked like another entrance to the castle, maybe a grander one than that in town. We never found out. Passing over picturesque river we noticed a dog and his human were enjoying the sun break on its banks deeper into the property. Was that the Duke? Probably not. Steven decided to make an adventure of it one day and hike up to the lookout…on his own. I’m not a hiker, not that much anyway. Pictures of Steven's hike come later - as that hike didn't happen for a couple days.

PBS has a series, Great Estates  Scotland. Inveraray Castle was featured in one of the installments. You can watch the episode here: http://video.pbs.org/video/2365335643/ Keep an eye out around the 36 minute mark for Stafford, the docent.

But now it was time for lunch.

Loch Fyne Oyster Bar, Cairndow

First, I have to say that this place has probably the best location outside of Inveraray. It’s directly on A82, the main road that you must use to get from just about anywhere in the Lock Fyne area. There is a fresh case and some prepared foods as you walk in. Further down is the host stand. We were met almost immediately and taken to our table. This is where things start to go wrong I’m almost sorry to say. There are three distinct dining areas we could see from the stand and we were taken to the closest one right off the seafood case and where all the families with young children happened to be. We were sat between two such families with periodically wailing small children. Not a good atmosphere in which to enjoy what we hoped would be a great meal. I know that families need to eat too, but our issue was that there were plenty of other seats in the remaining two rooms. The server was trying her hardest not to draw too much attention to the disturbances going off around the room, other guests appeared on edge too. It was just too much and we did ask to be moved. And moved we were to an adjacent room, filled with sun, big windows.

Even before the move, we had decided to take on the seafood tower with Hale lobster. Now, this isn’t what we’d usually do – order the most expensive thing on the menu that is clearly designed for the wow factor…and tourists like us. We took the bait (pun intended). In our defense, we really wanted to sample the hype, namely its claim to having the freshest seafood around. Now seated in a quieter place, we enjoyed a small salad of rocket (arugula) and parm, followed by a thick soup of smoked oyster and ham. Our tower-o-seafood arrived to the oohs and ahs of our neighboring diners. I have to admit, it was almost intimidating. Many layers of beautiful crustaceans and shellfish were waiting us. Our lobster lay unceremoniously splayed out on top; a rather ungracious thing to do to the poor guy. We dove in and entered hand to hand combat with this amassing of protein. After pulling apart heads from tails, scooping bivalves from the shells, and sucking on the ends of the smallest of lobster legs, we
were nearly defeated. I said nearly. We finished quite happy and shared knowing smiles with our new neighbors…Russians of course, who must have been awed by our efforts as we saw their own towers
arrive just as ours was defeated. All in all and in spite of the poor start to the lunch, the food – its
simple presentation and reliance upon the highest quality seafood – made this meal a good start to our culinary journey. And there were more adventures to come.

Check out their website for more info: http://www.lochfyne.com

A quick ride home and on to a 2^nd dinner at Out of the Blue Bistro! - see our next post

A quick ride home and on to a 2^nd dinner at Out of the Blue Bistro!

The countryside of Argyll is spectacular. After lunch we headed back to Thistle House for a rest and perhaps even a nap. We had arrangements to go back to Out of the Blue to meet the owner and talk with Noel, the chef, to get some background about him the bistro for this blog – and, of course, have another wonderful dinner. Our second meal started with us meeting up with the owner, Susan, and the shop-keep, as well as spending some time with Noel and his daughter, Kristie, our server and the all-around assistant, Lorna (sp?).

Chef Noel Dowse apparently has quite the culinary pedigree. Trained in Ireland’s Port Rush Catering College before apprenticing in Jersey at L’Hermitage Hotel (which no longer exists). He then moved “up-town” to the Savoy in London. His latest gig before heading to Scotland was in First Class lounges and corporate catering for British Airways at Heathrow Airport. Being friends with the owner’s husband, he had been asked in the early days of their owning the bistro to come be the chef but it took over a year of convincing him to get back into the kitchen. We were certainly pleased that he made the decision to do so.

His daughter, Kristie - delightful young woman as we've said - has not inherited her father’s skills in the kitchen. By her own admission, she is not a cook – far from it. In fact, she was asked not to return to Home Economics class in school after burning up the classroom kitchen with her failed Gummy Bear muffins. At least she’s able to laugh about it these days and accepts that Dad will always be the cook in the family.

Dinner tonight started out with the day's soup, which neither of us can remember what it was. But judging by the picture, I think it was a pea soup with crème fraîche. I do remember that it was as delicious as it looks. The real treat were the entrees! We both had the same main since it sounded so good, which it was. Drambuie Chicken  - as described on the menu:

Oven roasted breast of free range chicken stuffed with haggis, wrapper in bacon, smothered in a creamy peppercorn, heather honey and whiskey liqueur sauce. Served on a bed of grainy mustard mash.

What could go wrong with that!

A couple things that made this particularly nice, besides the freshness of it all, was that it was well seasoned, and the haggis wasn't fried in fat and therefore it did not over-power the dish. We've had haggis a couple other times on the trip, though tasty, it can have pretty strong flavor, be very heavy (due to being fried in fat...which it readily absorbs), but this did not. The chicken was surprisingly moist for being breast meat.

Click here full menu.

Once again, appetites satisfied, back to the inn for a night cap and sorting through the day’s photos before heading to bed.