Lots of Lochs

There are two bank holidays in May. It's great, because you can use the first one for a sleep-in and the second to have a holiday.

Thus, Lucy and I headed to Scotland for three days. It was my second trip, and her first, and we were determined to make the most of it.

We arrived near midnight to a hostel that smelled of wet washing and was full of long term residents. My bunk was decorated with family photos of one Australian woman who was in Romania for the week (lucky me). Lucy was assigned a bunk at the top of the world - with no rail around it to stop one plummeting to the floor.

It won't surprise you at all to learn we both slept rather badly and were very keen to get going in the morning.

Lucy was to spend the day with a friend of ours who lived in Aberdeen, so she wandered off to the train station whilst I made my way down to meet my coach tour to Stirling and the Trossachs.

I have always been lucky with my tours, in that people are friendly and I make some good random connections. However, this group all kept very much to themselves. So, I just cranked up the music (Tegan and Sara) and settled in for a day of countryside.

From Edinburgh, we drove west through Glasgow to the Trossachs and Loch Lomond. I have already been to Loch Ness and it has spoiled me for all other Scottish water. Although, I must admit that Loch Lomond looked very pleasant:


So, not wanting to be underwhelmed with comparisons to my previous Loch Ness excursion, I left the rest of the group to their ferry trip and opted to explore the tiny town of Balloch instead. It probably would have taken just twenty minutes to see the whole place, but I spent twice that in the queue at the Post Office.

By the time I had finished composing witty epistles, the ferry had returned and we plied onwards to Aberfoyle for lunch. There wasn't much to recommend the town, but a falconry display beside the tourist office gave me the chance to touch a snowy baby owl. You would not believe how warm he is to the touch:


After sushi as bad as you'd expect in the middle of a national park, we headed up into the hills for some gorgeous views. Scotland is the only place I have been that I think is anywhere near as pretty as New Zealand. And this trip has confirmed it. Check out that sky:


The area was made famous in Walter Scott's romantic poetry, and some of the views must be the same as they were in the early 1800s. Like this rather beautiful holiday home:


The Trossachs National Park goes for miles and miles, and there are lochs within that I think I must have been on the other side of when I went to Loch Ness. The beauty is quite haunting, and I don't think it is too surprising that there are so many poems and legends about this area. Even a cattle thief like Raibeart Ruadh (born at Loch Katrine) turns into mystical Rob Roy at the hands of Daniel Defoe, Sir Walter Scott and the Wordsworths.

I just sat back and watched the loveliness unfold. It was very soothing and I found myself happily pondering life.

Again, I opted out of the standard tourist activity by foregoing Stirling Castle to instead wander down into the town for a better look. There some lovely old stones built into the slopes up to the Castle, and quite a lot of statues to poets, kings and heroes. I saw a weird monument to William Wallace that had him decked out as a roman warrior, toga and all. Even the inevitable Marks and Spencers, McDs and Primarks of the town centre didn't stop the place feeling medieval and fun. But, time was short, and the steep walk back up to the Castle threatened to leave me bus-less.

Fortunately, the rest of my group were utter dawdlers and they overstayed in the Castle by quite a bit. I had enough time to sit peacably in the sun and look around. The William Wallace Memorial seemed tantalisingly close on a nearby hilltop:


But, by the time everyone else emerged, I was more than ready to return to Edinburgh and find out how Lucy's trip had been.

A straightforward journey got me in by 7pm. But, a series of travel misadventures meant Captain Wheeler wasn't to arrive until 11pm. Having had an early start, we were actually pretty grateful for our soft and smelly beds. It's amazing the difference a day makes!