Category Archives: Ordinary

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Ordinary, Scones

Stockbridge House

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If you don’t want to be taken down a wee memory lane, look away now! We’re back where we started over 50 years ago.

In our previous post from The Dean we walked through Dean Village along the Water of Leith and came to Stockbridge where we used to live. If you carry on walking eventually you end up in the Port of Leith and the open sea. When we started our married life Stockbridge was relatively cheap compared to the rest of Edinburgh. However, even back then it was termed “up and coming” and now it’s well and truly “up”. With its cafés and bars it is seen as one of the trendiest locations in the city. At that time I worked along the road at the Western General hospital and Pat worked in Stockbridge House.

Plaque commemorating the opening of Stockbridge House
I just happened to be standing there but the Queen Mum shook my hand … haven’t washed it since
Get it right!

In some of our flights of fancy we like to think that we played some small part in the rise of Stockbridge’s desirability. Adding a sense of style and that certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. Seriously though, we lived round the corner from the notorious Madam Dora’s establishment in Danube Street. Covered in pictures of the local Tory candidate her handsome Georgian townhouse was very easy to spot at election time. Famously she paid her fines in cash from her handbag during her almost monthly court appearances and used the witness box to publicise her service. She implored the journalists to get her address exactly right. After a spell in prison, aged 76, she died and the business died with her.

Respectability restored

Now, Danube Street with its £1-2 million houses is the epitome of  respectability again, Even in our more modest little street, Leslie Place, our one bedroom flat would now cost about £300,000. A far cry from the £4,500 we paid for it. Nowadays, if we were starting over again we probably wouldn’t be able to do it here. From our flat, we could look out the back window and see Stockbridge House where Pat worked.  We thought we should see if it was still there.

LifeCare logoIt was always a facility for the elderly but now it has been renamed LifeCare. Apparently something to do with going from charitable status to a public limited company.Internal view of Stockbridge House

There’s a cafe called CafeLife where they were just finishing an afternoon tea event when we arrived. We were welcomed in, however, and shown to a table where they gave us tea and a cheese scone to share.CafeLife logo

It was nice to see it still operating for the benefit of the elderly and they obviously felt that we now qualified to receive some of these benefits.  No topscone but great to explore the place again and chat to the  wonderful staff.A scone at Stockbridge House

Don’t Pisco Me Off

After that we thought we should check out what used to be our local pub, the Rag Doll. Back then we were well embedded here. On occasions we even held the keys for the owner if he was away on business elsewhere. Trusting or what?External view of the Rag DollHowever, after we moved to Northern Ireland the pub was sold and over the years has had many many incarnations under different names. Imagine our surprise to find it called the Rag Doll again. We were delighted.Internal view of the Rag Doll

Like the area, it has gone upmarket as well and is probably more of a cocktail bar than a pub now. We arrived just as it was opening and had a great chat with the new owner. When he took it over a few months ago he wisely decided to reinstate the Rag Doll name. To celebrate, we had to have a couple of drinks.

Cocktails in the Rag Doll
In the tall glass Pat had a ‘Lothian’s Calling’ (Edinburgh gin, Fino sherry, Lemon,Sugar syrup,Orange bitters) and I had a ‘Don’t Pisco Me Off’ (Pisco, GB Peche,JerezXeres sherry, Acid, Sugar syrup, Plum bitters, White wine)

In case you’re wondering Pisco is an unaged brandy obtained from the distillation of fermented Peruvian grape musts; we didn’t know either. Great fun, we wish the Rag Doll a massive amount of luck going forward. We did warn you it was a trip down memory lane!

Washing our hair

We’re on tenterhooks waiting for the first TV Leader’s Debate later this evening … NOT! A Sunak/Starmer debacle for which we could probably write the questions and, although there won’t be any meaningful ones, we could probably write the answers as well. The only surprise is that Nigel Farage isn’t taking part. He doesn’t represent anyone but the media seem to love giving him airtime. Who knows, we might have to wash our hair when it’s on.

EH4 1JB        tel: 0131 343 0940              CafeLife

///mash.found.burns

Ordinary, Scones

The Dean

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We used to live in Edinburgh, very close to Dean Village. The village lies along the banks of the Water of Leith and although it is almost city centre it feels like another world. A while back we became aware of a cafe called Café Braw (“braw” is typical Scottish understatement meaning “excellent”) and made a mental note to visit. Today we are doing just that. However when we got to where we thought it should be we couldn’t find it. We had to stop and ask a passerby. He just pointed to The Dean which we were standing outside. It had changed its name!

Dean Village
The Water of Leith running through the village

Anyway, we hade been looking forward to Cafe Braw but were sadly disappointed with The Dean. It’s tiny. Only two stools to sit on inside and not much more outside. A scone at The DeanIt was a lovely day so sitting outside wasn’t a problem, however, for the entire duration of our visit we were regaled by the thoughts of the owner. He stood on the pavement talking loudly to the couple at the next table who he was presumably trying to impress. Obviously we weren’t worth impressing because he never said a word to us. Perhaps the day could have been saved by the scones but sadly no. They were decidedly average. Coffee was nice though!Dean Village

Neuks and crannies

Anyway, although The Dean was disappointing the main purpose of our visit was to walk along the Water of Leith through Dean Village.

Dean Village
Pat just had to go down here to make sure the washing was hung properly

That’s something we didn’t do enough of when we actually lived here. Work, and stuff like that got in the way. Normally there’s not that much water however recent rains meant that today it was quite swollen. The village itself is very quaint with all its tall buildings piled up along the river as well as loads of little courtyards and other neuks and crannies. It is now a major draw for tourists and perhaps testament to what could be achieved before town planners got their hands on everything. Soon we came to Stockbridge and the street where we used to live as a newly married couple starting out on life’s adventure. It was nice to be back but that’s another story and another scone. Dean Village

Wisdom?

Donald Trump, unsurprisingly, been found guilty. Equally unsurprisingly that has set the cat among the pigeons. You couldn’t make it up. Wisdom isn’t a word you could ever associate with Donald but here at home we are faced with supposedly other wise politicians fighting for our affections. Falling over themselves to promise us the sun, the moon and the stars. Like Donald they all presumably think they have sufficient wisdom to govern over the rest of us, the unwise. Perhaps they could all do well to heed the words of Joe Corrie.

Born in 1894, Corrie was a coal miner and poet  from Slamannan. A village just a few miles from our home. Most of his poems are written in the Scots language so we hope that our non-Scots readers will understand. Or, at least catch his drift. The poem starts with him  comparing philosophies of Plato,  Soloman and Socrates  but ends with these four salutary lines.Poem by Joe Corrie

St Bernard's well, Dean Village
St Bernard’s Well on the banks of the river featuring the Greek goddess of health Hygeia

An inscription over the doorway on the well  reads “Bibendo Valeris”, meaning; drink and you will be well. We’ve tried to follow that advice and we feel very well!

EH3 9BH          tel: 07930 146671               The Dean

///depend.joined.units

Ordinary, Scones

Saline Shaw

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Logo of Saline ShawYou know how these days farmers cannot just be farmers, they nearly always have to have another string to their bow. Naively perhaps, we believed that farmers should always be able to earn enough to live on just by farming. That no longer seems to be the case, however, so perhaps we should be grateful. Many of them have chosen to open farm shops and cafés like this one at Saline Shaw. After all, each one presents another scone opportunity.External view of Saline Shaw

Saline Shaw is a perfect example of how to do it well. Not only do they have nice clean premises but they seem to have been able to foster a great team spirit among the staff. We were looked after by a young lass called Rebecca who was very busy looking after all the outside tables but still managed to be very attentive and friendly. 

A scone at Saline ShawThe whole enterprise was begun in 2020 in the midst of the COVID pandemic . Not the easiest of starts but they certainly seem to have found their feet now. Rebecca soon had us fixed up with some fruit scones and tea and coffee. We liked what they did with the jam and cream … both in little refillable jars, no packaging wastage here! Although not a topscone they were very enjoyable. It was lovely to sit outside in the sunshine looking over to the Ochil Hills in the distance. We felt far removed from the horrors about to present themselves over the next six weeks in the run up to the General Election. 

4th July

The only advice we can offer is “don’t watch the news”! That is not unless you want to be bombarded  with enthusiastic but vacuous statements from each of the parties. They will be explaining how they alone can guide us all to vast sunlit uplands where everything in the garden is just rosy. With the UK’s astronomical debt levels, don’t expect any similar statements indicating how this miraculous state of affairs is going to be achieved.  One is as bad as the other. For Scotland, the 4th of July date of the election has been seen by many as an opportunity for Scottish Independence, just like America’s. However, there is a fundamental flaw in this comparison.  America, of course, should quite rightly celebrate gaining its independence from Britain. Scotland, on the other hand, is merely trying to regain its independence.Internal view of Saline Shaw

Couldn’t have found a better place than Saline Shaw to reflect on all this. We bought some herbs from their plant section and headed for home. Okay, okay, we watched the tv news only to find that Sunak has promised to bring back National Service for all 18 years olds. Nothing like teaching folk to kill other folk to regain some backbone and  give the country a sense of pride. Oh, and replenish the military numbers so devastated by his own government’s cutbacks. Or, are we being too cynical?Sign for Saline Shaw

KY12 9UG          tel: none           Saline Shaw

///universes.published.slope

Ordinary, Scones

Cafe Circa revisited again

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Today we became victims of the cashless society. Not here at Cafe Circa, but at a nearby Community Plant Sale in the village of Doune. We were never sure if the whole cashless thing would ever become the norm, however, when our local pub, which has barely changed in the last two hundred years, suddenly started taking cashless payments  we knew it was either the end of the world as we knew it or the beginning of a slightly scary new one. The latter turned out to be the case. We should probably have guessed that an event like this wouldn’t take cards but we didn’t. They had a very long table laden with lots of sapling tomato plants … eight different varieties. Unfortunately, when they were setting up, all the labels had fallen out so nobody knew what was what. Buying would have been the tomato equivalent of Russian roulette … kind of!

We would have loved to have supported this event more but the upshot was that we were only able to buy as many plants as our rather meagre cash reserves allowed. And that didn’t include tomatoes! At the end of it all we didn’t even have enough cash left to buy a cup of tea and a scone in their makeshift cafe … disaster!

House full
Wall plaque at Cafe Circa in Doune
On the wall of the Antique Centre, the crest of Clan Stewart … a pelican feeding its young. Nearby Doune Castle was the seat of Robert Stewart, Duke of Albany. It’s the only pelican we’ve ever seen in Scotland but unfortunately doesn’t count among our birdwatching friends

Forced to retreat we ended up, just a hop skip and jump along the road at Cafe Circa in the Scottish Antique & Arts Centre. The first time we reviewed Cafe Circa was back in 2015 and then again in 2021. It was time for an update. Prior to our scone, however, we went all round the Antique Centre. They have loads and loads of stuff and even though cards weren’t a problem, we didn’t buy a thing. Don’t be fooled, rather than indicating that there was nothing worth buying it simply lets you know that our house is already full of stuff bought from here in the past. Internal view of Cafe Circa in Doune

It was a lovely day so we sat outside in the courtyard. It’s interesting to watch everyone leaving with their purchases. eager to get home and try them out in some pre-imagined spot in their houses. A scone at Cafe Circa in DouneWe soon had a scone as well as a couple of coffees. Service was good but a slight problem here was that we never saw the same person twice, It seemed to take four different servers to deal with our miniscule order … heyho! Don’t think we have ever awarded a topscone here and today was no exception, perfectly enjoyable but not quite up to the mark.

Eurovision

Society has changed in more than simply becoming cashless. We had the dubious “pleasure” of watching the Eurovision Song Contest in Malmo, Sweden. We are well aware of what Eurovision is so don’t really know why we watched it … just some sort of masochistic curiosity. The songs were almost all uniformly forgettable and often  completely obscured by totally over-the-top presentation.  The inclusion of Israel caused a few problems. Considering Russia wasn’t allowed to compete it’s difficult to see how the organisers managed to justify that decision. Heyho, it was pretty difficult to justify any of it really!

Apparently it was the first non-binary Eurovision. We weren’t sure what that meant but it all became clear when we looked it up. By comparison, a cashless society seemed really easy to understand. Anyway this year Switzerland won with a song by Nemo called The Code. Runner up was Croatia with Rim Tim Tagi Dim sung by Baby Lasagne.

Perhaps we are just getting old when we look back nostalgically at the likes of Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson … and that was pretty awful. Don’t worry if you missed it!

FK16 6HG        tel: 01786 841683         Cafe Circa

///tramps.cleansed.landscape

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Bothy Bakery

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The Bothy Bakery is in Grantown-on-Spey in the Scottish Highlands, so how did we end up here? And before you jump to conclusions although this is the heart of whisky country, it’s not that. Normally we go to Ness Estates near Inverness for Easter with the family. This year, however, we

Delnabo Lodge
Delnabo Lodge

decided on Delnabo Lodge near Tomintoul, the UK’s highest village. At 1200 feet it’s a risky strategy in March/April when there was still a risk of snow. Have you ever tried rolling eggs in snow? Anyway, we drove there and the family all arrived safely from a combination of Inverness and Edinburgh airports. Delnabo Estate covers 3000 acres and the Lodge can accommodate up to 18 guests in total luxury. There’s only 13 in the family so we invited a family friend to join us.

Sign for the Bothy Bakery, Grantown-on-SpeyHe said he would travel by train and meet us in Grantown-on-Spey. That’s why we are here! Couldn’t find the station so we asked a lovely old  lady in the street who said “There’s no station here but there bloody well should be” smiled and walked on. Turned out the nearest station was in Aviemore, 14 miles away. Our friend doesn’t use a mobile phone (we know??) so we were in a bit of a quandary. True to form, he just turned up having taken a bus from Aviemore.

External view of the Bothy Bakery, Grantown-on-Spey
Grandkids perusing the cakes

Grantown is a nice place with lots of little independent shops and craft places. There’s lots of cafés but a  young chap in one of the art galleries told us the best cafe was the Bothy Bakery, in a local industrial estate. Didn’t sound too exciting but we decided to give it a go anyway. Turned out not to be a café as such but a bakery with a few tables and chairs outside in the car park. No worries, it was a nice day and all the food including the scones looked great. 

The Kiwi owner founded the very successful Mountain Cafe in Aviemore several years ago but it didn’t survive COVID. A scone at the Bothy Bakery, Grantown-on-SpeyHe decided to reinvent his operation and set up the Bothy Bakery, here in his home town. There’s plenty people working in the bakery and they deliver everything to the surrounding area so it seems to be successful. No airs and graces here and no cream either! Our scone was placed in a brown paper bag and we went outside with what they described as some Kick Ass coffee. There was also some prepacked Irish butter and a plastic tub of strawberry jam in the bag. The scone was actually very nice and it was lovely to be sitting out in the sun with all the family. A puppy at the Bothy BakeryHowever, our granddaughters abandoned us completely as soon as a girl appeared with a cardboard box containing a puppy. Can’t compete with a puppy!

PH26 3TA       tel: 01479 788011        Bothy Bakery

///shelters.liquid.twitching

Ordinary, Scones

Lucy’s

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Imagine for a moment that it’s the 18th century and you’re a farmer with a few cows on the Isle of Jura. Map of Craignish peninsulaThe cattle are ready for market but that’s in Falkirk, 150 miles away. What do you do?  It’s perfectly simple really. You walk the cattle up to the very north of the island past Barnhill, the cottage where George Orwell wrote “1984”. Then you swim them past the infamous Corryvreckan whirlpool to the Craignish peninsula on the mainland. And, had it been there in the 18th century, a further five mile walk would have taken you to Lucy’s cafe in the village of Ardfern. In many ways, Orwell’s dystopian vision in “1984” of rival dictatorships and Big Brother seems uncomfortably realistic these days.

Hardy

Of course, it probably wasn’t quite like that. The farmers would combine their animals into relatively large herds and maybe even use professional drovers for the long and arduous trek. Not sure that we would fancy crossing this stretch of water in a rowing boat at the best of times never mind with a whole lot of swimming cows tethered to it. They were hardy souls back then!Internal view of Lucy's at Ardfern

For being so off the beaten track, Ardfern is a really lively place with around 400 people calling it home. There’s a large marina and it’s popular with artists, writers and crafts people as well as several technology based industries.

Painting of Lucy's at Ardfern
Painting of Lucy’s with the local folk depicted as fairies

Lucy’s is similarly energetic and has a lovely vibe about it. The staff were very welcoming and we were delighted to see some scones  displayed on the counter … yeah!

Giant

A scone at Lucy's at ArdfernBefore our scone we decided on something savoury, a sausage roll! Goodness, when it arrived it was a giant, by far the biggest sausage roll we have ever come across! A delicious feast in itself but would we manage a scone as well? Of course we could! No cream but it came with plenty of jam and butter.  Freshly baked and just very nice. All in all, Lucy’s was a great place and an unexpected find in an unexpected place.

Pat at Dunned in 2012
Pat at Dunaad in 2012 and trying her right foot in the stone … perfect fit!

Craignish and the surrounding area may be isolated and remote by modern standards but it was once the centre of many people’s worlds. The nearby ancient hillfort of Dunadd was at the centre of the Gaelic kingdom of Dalriada. It stretched across the west coast of Scotland and Northern Ireland. From the 6th century, Kings were crowned here in a ceremony which involved them placing their right foot in a footprint carved into the rock. In 843, Kenneth McAlpin,  King of the Picts married into the Scots of Dalriada and became the first King of “Scotland”. All was peaceful from then on. Do you think we can find a nice Ukrainian princess for Putin to marry … or a Palestinian one for Netanyahu? Okay, it wasn’t a serious question.

PA31 8QN          tel: 01852 500781            Lucy’s 

///potential.branch.status

Ordinary, Scones

Railbridge Bistro

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We’ve been to the Hippodrome cinema again but as usual have gone on somewhere else for something to eat. Today it’s the turn of the Railbridge Bistro in South Queensferry.A sign for The Railbridge

La Binoche

The film we saw was an extraordinary French movie called ‘The Taste of Things’. It’s a gentle tale of romance centred around gastronomy. There’s a lot of talk about their pot-au-feu, being as heavenly as a Mozart symphony.  Set in 1889 it could only have been made in France. Us Brits, apart from a few mmms and aahs, usually talk about everything except the food when we eat. It’s why the French regard us as an  uncultured lot. The film was beautifully crafted; no music, sparse dialogue but great acting by Juliette Binoche. Sound and visuals were recorded in such a way that you could virtually smell the food. However, if you like rootin’, tootin’ shootin’ this is definitely not the film for you.

With three iconic bridges spanning the river Forth, South Queensferry has the dubious honour of being extremely popular with tourists. With its very narrow streets, it got so chaotic in the summer months that they’ve introduced a one way system. You can come in from the west but if you want to return the same way, you can’t. It all gets a bit complicated! Heyho, on the upside because it’s so busy it can support an entire frontage of large pubs and eateries. This Railbridge Bistro  is one we haven’t visited before.Internal view of The Railbridge

Six Nations

Lots of noisy landscaping work going on outside which was a bit off-putting but we decided to venture in anyway. It’s big and even has an upstairs balcony for even better views of the bridges. The Six Nations Rugby Championship is on at the moment so it was bedecked with flags of all the participating countries. The staff had iPad type devices for placing orders hanging round their necks so it’s geared up to cater for the hungry hordes. Luckily it wasn’t too busy for us and they seated us on a comfortable big leather sofa where we could watch a screen showing a movie about the construction of the bridge. We now know all about it now so will bore you with stats later, but first the scones.

A scone at The RailbridgeWe ordered fruit scones which came with jam cream and a nice selection of berries. It was all really nicely presented and the staff were very friendly and attentive. The scone itself was also surprisingly good. However, with all the mechanical noise going on outside the overall experience wasn’t quite what it could have been. No topscone, but close!

The Forth rail bridge
View of the bridge from the Railbridge Bistro
Progress

From a Health & Safety point of view the construction of the three bridges illustrates how H&S has improved over the years. 73 workers lost their lives building the rail bridge in 1890, then 7 were lost building the first road bridge in 1964 and only 1 was lost building the most recent one in 2017. Logo of The Railbridge

The Railbridge is an engineering wonder. It was built to restore the public’s faith in bridges after the Tay Bridge Disaster in 1879 when a passenger train passing over it plunged into the river. Unfortunately it also resulted in some of William McGonagall’s worst poetry. 

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

‘Twas about seven o’clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem’d to say-
“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”

Obviously, something had to be done to prevent McGonagall writing stuff like that again. Today, after over 130 years, the Forth Railbridge is still used daily by 200 trains.  

A good movie followed by a good scone … that’s a good day!

EH30 9TA           tel: 0131 331 1996           The Railbridge

///proofs.reinvest.culminate

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Powmill Milk Bar

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Logo of Powmill Milk BarIt seems as if Powmill Milk Bar has always been there. Since time immemorial we have driven past it on our way to other places and said “we must go in there some time“. It’s always been a wooden shack style structure but it’s been there so long, the current incarnation must be third or fourth generation. Internal view of Powmill Milk Bar

Easyriders

Anyway, It was a nice day and we had been driving on inexpicably quiet roads to get here. Then it all became clear. Everybody was already here at Powmill Milk Bar! It was mobbed and it was obviously a favoured spot for motorbikes. Leather clad blokes were standing around admiring each other’s bikes in the way that leather clad blokes do. There was also some middle aged car bound blokes admiring all the Ducatis and Kawasaki flying machines and presumably dreaming of a life that might have been.

Scooters at Powmill Milk Bar
Scooters in the car park
Preloaded!

Inside it was going like a fair. We had to join the line at the self service counter but fortunately it went very quickly. A fruit scone was all we wanted but when we asked for jam and cream it seemed to cause some confusion. They just looked at us and said “we have cream scones“! It seemed easier just to agree though normally we steer well clear of preloaded scones. We’re just pernickety and like the performance of constructing our scones according to our own personal taste. On the plus side, however, we were delighted to find that they served Henry’s coffee … our long standing favourite.A scone at Powmill Milk Bar

Maybe the coffee influenced our experience but we really enjoyed our visit here and wondered why we hadn’t done it years ago. With its straight forward, no airs and graces, approach, we completely understand why it’s so popular. Generally you can’t eat preloaded scones without getting in a bit of a mess. The contents squidge out in all directions. However, a fork and knife helped make this one more manageable. Mind you, the light crumbly nature of the scone even made this quite tricky.  Very nice though.Internal view of Powmill Milk Bar

Unforgivable

Politics is so incomprehensible these days we are reluctant to comment on any of it. Putin’s war in Ukraine seems incomprehensible and unforgivable. Imagine if we could just go around murdering anyone who disagreed with us with seeming impunity? Goodness, that would reduce the world’s population quite considerably.

Britain and America’s slavish support for Israel also seems unforgivable. With all the anger generated it’s little wonder that George Galloway has won the Rochdale by-election. Let’s see what his acknowledged oratory skills can do for the Palestinians. Precious little we suspect. 

Starvation is now a huge problem in Gaza. Who would have thought that a Jewish state would end up guilty of genocide? Perhaps Israel is being advised by Britain. The British government has form. Its  God-given sense of superiority led to them having a long, if not illustrious, history when it comes to starvation. The Irish Famine in the 1850s and the Bengal Famine in 1943 in which millions died, come to mind.

Terminal boredom

On this side of the pond, the prospect of a Sunak/Starmer General Election is boring everyone to death. On the other side a Biden/Trump rerun Presidential Election is depressing everyone to death.  We’ll just stay here in Powmill looking at flying machines and dreaming of things we do understand … aah, the wind in our hair!

KY13 0QG       tel: 01577 840376          Powmill Milk Bar FB

///valued.passages.tripped

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Storehouse of Foulis

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In our previous post from Hettie’s Tearoom we were on a mission to Dingwall to explore some family history. We’re still up north but this time we are on another sort of mission … to find an old friend. We haven’t seen him for something like thirty five years. Problem was that, other than his address, we didn’t have any contact details so we couldn’t warn him we were coming. Perhaps that was just as well otherwise he might have arranged to be ‘out’. After our sojourn to Dingwall we were heading for home but a slight diversion to Evanton, further along the Comarty Firth coast, was not going to add too much to our journey. First though, we stopped off here at the Storehouse of Foulis for a cuppa.Internal view of the Storehouse of Foulis

It gets its name because it was built as a Storehouse in 1740 as a central collection point for estate tenants to bring their oats and barley. These were then redistributed to farm workers as wages or sent off to markets further south. Boats would land on the beach, load up, and then take off on the next high tide. That’s all in the past, now it’s a large farm shop/restaurant.Internal view of the Storehouse of Foulis

What’s in a name?

Last time we were here seven years ago we had a chocolate and banana scone which left us somewhat underwhelmed. This time we played safe and ordered a fruit scone and some coffee. Scone at the Storehouse of Foulis We had a table by the large bay window looking out over the water and a few redundant oil rigs parked like monuments to a time of plenty squandered by an idiotic Westminster government.

We thought we should check the address. Sacre bleu, he didn’t live in Evanton after all, he lived in Edderton. Evanton/Edderton, an easy mistake to make? We wanted to go south and home but Edderton would take us even further north to the Dornoch Firth … aargh! We deliberated on what to do as we ate our scone. It was nice and came with a nice pot of jam and some prepackaged butter. With this being a self-service place it was never going to be a topscone but enjoyable nevertheless.cakes atthe Storehouse of Foulis

Deliberations over, we returned to the car and headed north. Edderton is a small village which lies amidst beautiful countryside on the southern shores of the Dornoch Firth. It also has the good fortune to be sandwiched between the Balblair and Glenmorangie distilleries and presumably has a very happy population of about 400. Our satnav took us straight there but when it announced “you have arrived” it left us a choice of numerous houses at the end of a cul-de-sac .

I stayed in the car while Pat went to make enquiries. Suddenly, there was tap on my window and a chap wanting to know if I was looking for someone. They don’t miss much in Edderton! I told him the name to which he just shook his head and said there was no one of that name in the village. “He was a vet” I said, to which he replied “Oh, that’s his house there“. We had indeed ‘arrived’.

Young lads

after such a long passage of time, turning up unannounced isn’t really very fair. At first he didn’t recognise us but then he gasped “Good grief” … or words to that effect and we were welcomed in. Many years ago, he, I and another friend  went on a climbing holiday to St Moritz in the Alps. It’s a long story of wrecked cars and other mishaps the like of which could only happen to young lads with no responsibilities. Suffice to say we never made it. We did, however, in a very round about way, manage to end up in the Pyrenees.

John Simpson and George McKenzie in the Pyrenees
The Pyrenees in 1970, quite like the Alps, another easy mistake!

Magically it seemed like no time had passed at all since we last saw each other. Needless to say there was much catching up to be done. We did eventually get home … in the dark!

IV16 9UX         tel: 01349 830038.         Storehouse

///elsewhere.surreal.giggle

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Braco Coffee

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Braco Coffee is in the pretty little of village of Braco (pronounced break-o) population about 500. You would be forgiven for thinking that nothing much has ever happened here but you would be wrong.

On the outskirts of the village lies Fort Ardoch, a long abandoned Roman fortification. There’s only grass covered mounds these days to denote where the walls once were. Diagram of Roman helmetOnce while walking by the river we could hear distant commands “sinister dexter, sinister dexter.” Eventually it got much louder and a platoon of marching Roman Legionnaires appeared. They were in full costume and carrying spears with a commanding officer at the front giving them their marching orders. We spoke to them and apparently this is what some men do instead of going to football on a Saturday afternoon. They just march around for a bit, then go home again. We don’t understand either but they seemed very happy.

Damned cows!

But never mind the Romans, more importantly, my mum lodged here during WWII when she worked in forestry. 

My mum lodged in one of these houses with a lovely lady called Jessie Allan

My dad was in forestry as well and Braco is where they did all their courting.  Apparently on one of their dates my dad left his BSA motorbike in a field. When they returned (from wherever they had been 🥴) the straw stuffed saddle of the bike had been eaten by a cow.  We tell you this to illustrate the fact that without this wee village this blog might never have materialised. Unthinkable, we know. Logo of Braco Coffee

Somewhere as salubrious as Braco Coffee wouldn’t have been available to dad back then hence mum’s invite to a field. Even if it had been, words like “cuppocinno”, “americano” or “flat white” would have been absolutely meaningless to them. We pass through Braco quite often and have had this place in our sights for a while. The clincher came when the Laird reported the cakes as excellent though he wasn’t sure about the scones. Obviously we had to check!Internal view of Braco Coffee

There was a steady stream of people coming and going  so we had to wait a wee while to place our order at the counter. A scone atBraco CoffeeNormally these cafes are staffed by young girls but here it seemed to be all young lads. Anyway, it didn’t take them long to have us sorted with our coffees and a fruit scone. There wasn’t any cream and the butter and jam was all prepacked but the scone itself was really good. We thoroughly enjoyed it. Not quite topscone but close.

Memories

Afterwards I took Pat a couple of hundred yards along the road to the Pack Horse Bridge. It’s tucked away behind the more modern road bridge over the river Knaik. Pat was surprised and swore she had never seen it before and wasn’t even aware that it existed.It was built around 1650 and must have been the main crossing point for the river for many years. It’s only about four feet wide with very low stone parapets so it must have been interesting taking horses over it.

The Pack Horse Bridge in Braco
Built around 1650 as Ardoch bridge but now known as the Pack Horse Bridge

When we got home I looked up my photo library because I was sure that I had photographed it in the past. Sure enough I had a picture from 2006 … with Pat and the rest of our family standing on it. Such is our memories these days!

Pack Horse Bridge at Braco
Before Health & Safety … now you are not allowed to walk over it
Travelling

As if that wasn’t enough Braco based anecdotes, here is one last one … promise. Given the problems in Gaza and Israel’s genocidal tendencies it made me think of a conversation about Braco when I was a mere sapling. My brother and I were working for my dad during school holidays when one of the elderly estate workers joined us while we were eating our packed lunches. He told us, when he was our age he was an estate worker in Braco with a 7am start to his working day. At that time he lived six miles away in the village of Muthill. When we asked him how he got to and from his work he said in his broad Scottish accent “oh aye, I just travelled“. Puzzled we asked if he maybe cycled or got a bus. “No” he insisted “I travelled“.

Misunderstanding

After some more probing it eventually dawned on us that by “travelled” he meant he walked. He walked six miles to his work in the morning and six miles back again at night. We hadn’t thought of that! The only reason I’m telling you this is that it was the first time I became aware of the vagaries of language. There we were, all speaking the same language but totally misunderstanding each other.

It’s why I’ve always been amazed by the EU, a union designed to stop wars but consisting of countries speaking twenty four different languages. Prior to the EU these countries used to fight like ferrets in a sack so the room for misunderstanding was immense. And yet it has been phenomenally successful at what it was designed to do. Maybe they should make Israel a member … after all it’s in Eurovision but we’d far rather they find some other solution.

FK15 9PX         tel: 01786 880 333          Braco Coffee

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