Believe it or not we are still at Crieff Hydro for this post, or at least we’re still on the Crieff Hydro estate. Now, however, we are in Action Glen, about a five minute drive from the main hotel. And at the centre of Action Glen is the appropriately named Basecamp bar and cafe. Like all good basecamps it’s where you set out from on your daring adventures. It could be horse riding, off-roading, or even zip lining, There’s four zip lines side by side so you can have races.
Is it a bird, is it a plane, no it’s supersconey
Competing with the grandkids I always seemed to come last … greater wind resistance was the problem! So unfair!
Mysterious forces
There’s a very tempting giant maze where, if you really tried, you could easily lose grandkids! We have to say, ours had an uncanny knack of finding us again. There’s paddle boarding or fly fishing instruction … whatever takes your fancy really. Then there’s the Glen’s Fort where you can rock climb up to the top of the tower then whoosh down a metal tube back to ground level. There’s Segway experiences and huge inflated pillows you can bounce on. There’s even 4×4 driving for kids. Amidst all this non-stop fun, however, we were delighted to discover that they also did some serious adult stuff … like scones. It wasn’t too long before we were drawn into the Basecamp cafe as if by some mysterious irresistible force. Ice cream seemed to have the same effect on the kids.
Unfortunately, the cafe was being manned single handedly by a chap who was completely out of his depth. He was probably supposed to be doing off-road driving instruction and had been told that he would have to do the cafe instead because the normal staff hadn’t turned up. It was all quite funny as he frantically rummaged around looking for things. As he wrestled with the orders the customers felt his frustration and were very supportive. Basecamp is a good place. All fairly basic but the kind of place you’re very pleased to get back to after all the outdoorsy stuff.
No worries
Okay, it’s not exactly high altitude Everest Basecamp but nevertheless we felt a scone report would be appreciated by our fellow sconeys. A fruit scone with some tea. was our relatively simple order. We took our scone to a table and waited for the tea … and waited … and waited! Needless too say, our fish-out-of-water server had completely forgotten. No worries it all worked out in the end. No cream but the slightly over-cooked scone came with some prepacked butter and a generous portion of blackcurrant jam. Enjoyable enough but not a topscone. Who cares when you can just sit looking out towards distant Ben Vorlich. The kids didn’t share any of their ice cream but by all accounts it was very good.
This is your intrepid sconey team for 2024. From Basecamp we will venture forth into the nether regions of the world in search of topscones for another year. Wish us luck!
Let us begin 2024 by wishing all our readers a very happy and healthy year. May your troubles be few and your scones be many! Traditionally it’s a time for reflection on the past year and making ambitious resolutions for the new one. Apart from all the horrible stuff going on in the world, 2023 was good. We had over sixty scones and topscones in such diverse locations as Busta House on Shetland and Coll Hotel on the lovely Isle of Coll. Our most important New Year resolution is not to have any and just enjoy whatever comes along.
Memories
And talking of enjoying ourselves a few days back we visited Crieff Hydro Hotel and Spa with some of the family. Crieff is a Perthshire town we know quite well. We have lots of family connections and many happy memories were made here. Over the years we’ve visited Crieff Hydro several times but always just fleetingly for lunch with relatives. This time we’re staying over with family.
a small part of the breakfast room
In 1868 it became Scotland’s first hydropathic establishment where people could go “to take the waters”. It may seem a bit odd these days, however. back then when good clean water was hard to come by, places like this flourished. A favourite for wealthy Victorians. Today it’s still run by the same family. It’s still labeled as a ‘spa’ hotel but nowadays it’s more for massages, saunas and luxury therapies rather than the waters. With over 200 rooms, 50 lodges and over 900 acres of hills and forests, it’s more like a small town than a hotel. It has a swimming pool, tennis courts, ice skating, a couple of golf courses and off-road driving experiences … oh, and don’t forget the funfair.
Main entrance
Family, family family
It’s a family hotel and probably not the kind of place you would book for a quiet romantic weekend away. There are kids everywhere! Not that we could complain, we had brought some of our own. We decided to try the scones in the Wintergardens … a large dining area with magnificent views over the Perthshire countryside. And this is only one of several restaurants.
the Wintergardens
The Wintergardens is all self-service. They had three different types of scone, all freshly baked. Predictably, perhaps we chose a fruit one to share … obviously we had to save ourselves for dinner later. We loaded up our tray and found a nice quiet table by a window. Surprisingly perhaps, there was no cream and the jam and butter were all prepackaged. The scone itself was very good but taking everything into account it failed to gain topscone status.
Part of the Festive Forest
Having dabbled in hospitality ourselves we are slightly in awe of this place. With its 850 staff and multitude of facilities it must be a logistical nightmare to manage. And yet it has done so, apparently without a hitch, for over one hundred and fifty years … amazing!
Funfair, skating and roller coaster experience with VR
Virtual reality
We are thankful that none of our grandchildren are having to experience anything remotely like what is happening in Ukraine and Gaza or any of the world’s other disaster areas. Their life experiences are so vastly different from some others, and here at Crieff Hydro it’s almost as if we are living on a different planet. And, of course, they do have the best grandparents in the world 😀
Just over a year ago we reported from ‘Aran’ in Falkirk and it got pretty close to a topscone award. It has since closed and today’s ‘Aran’ is in Linlithgow but run by the same people. In our original Aran post we said we would report from the Linlithgow establishment at some point in the future … so here we are!
Linlithgow is a very picturesque historic town and this cafe sits not more than two hundred yards from the Palace where Mary Queen of Scots was born in 1542. Unfortunately Aran is housed in a large 60s architectural monstrosity that does no favours to the town whatsoever. A plaque on the wall, however, indicates that it won a design award from the Saltire Society. What were they thinking?
You will remember, of course, that “aran” is Gaelic for “bread”. They take great pride in their sustainability and sourcing local produce. They bake everything themselves using 100% renewable electricity as well as recycling 75% of their waste. Highly commendable but what would their scones also be highly commendable?
Topless
Over the past year we have had our fair share of scone disasters. Aside from the relatively few places that have had below average scones, there have been places with no scones and others with outlandish flavour combinations. Here, however, we had another kind of disaster … topless scones! Because I had ordered a bowl of soup Pat went ahead and chopped the top of our shared scone before I could take a photo. Not only that she had eaten it before I even noticed. This is the first time we have posted a photograph of a topless scone and I cannot tell a lie … it was her! However, she did say that the top was very good and with cream it would have been a topscone. The bottom was delicious as well … one of the best bottoms I’ve tasted! So not quite a topscone but highly commendable.
Goodwill
This is the season of merriment and goodwill to all men (for men read men, women and everything in between and beyond). However, sitting here looking at the world from Linlithgow, where the town motto is “be kind to strangers”, we’re not seeing much in the way goodwill. No-one seems to have told the Putins, Sunaks, Ali Khameneis, Bidens, Netanyahus. However, here in Scotland, in three days time we will have our shortest day at slightly less than seven hours. From then on the days start to stretch and we begin again with renewed hope that all these guys mentioned above will try to enact that motto.
Pat and I are getting ready for the usual deluge of grandkids so sconological adventures may have to be left to one side over the festive season. We thank all our readers for your continued loyal support and wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy, healthy and sconey 2024.
You might think that Mary Queen of Scots crops up quite a lot in this blog. Honestly, it’s only because there are reminders of her dramatic but short life everywhere we go. Today we are at the Old Mill in the village of Killearn and almost directly opposite is the imposing, 103 feet high obelisk – the George Buchanan Monument. It dominates the house where he was born in 1506. George was Mary’s tutor as well as tutor to her son King James VI. George was educated in Paris and was seen as one of the leading intellectuals of the time. However, we’re not too sure he made such a great job of James … and thereby hangs a tale.
In 1589 the twenty three year old James married the fourteen year old Anne of Denmark by proxy. She was in Denmark and he was in Scotland. Earl Marshall substituted for James, and ‘consummated’ the marriage by lying fully clothed on a bed next to his new Queen. What kind of job is that? Eventually she sailed to Scotland but a storm meant she ended up in Norway. James sailed to Norway and they were married in Oslo and honeymooned in Scandinavia for three months before eventually reaching Edinburgh in yet another storm. James blamed these storms on witches. He became obsessed with witches. Church leaders decreed that witches had to be punished with fire thus kicking off a century of horrendous witch burning. Pity help you if you were the slightest bit odd or your neighbours complained about you.
Woman of the year 1590
The marriage between Anne and James wasn’t exactly blissful. Within twenty years Anne had seventeen pregnancies and gave birth to eight children only three of which survived infancy. However, one became King Charles I, another became Queen of Bohemia and the other became the Prince of Wales but died when he was eighteen! During this time James had fathered numerous illegitimate children and reputedly courted several male lovers too. Poor guy, he had complex needs. Surprise, surprise, he and Anne spent the last ten years living apart! She died aged 44 … same as her mum-in-law Mary Queen of Scots. Ahh, the good old days!
Okay, enough of Royal debauchery and witch burning. The last time we were in Killearn was back in March when we were at the Kitchen Window. And again in May for Kenny Endo’s taiko drumming concert. It’s a happening place for being such a small village! The Old Mill was built in 1774 and is now a pub with a café across a courtyard area where horses used to be stabled
Coping manfully
It was a nice day but quite windy and the couple at the next table said that they had booked to go to the Isle of Man but the ferry had been cancelled. It’s them witches again! We got a fruit and cinnamon scone which came nicely presented with plenty butter and jam. No cream but hey, sometime you just can’t have everything! There only seemed to be one young girl on duty and she was doing a lot of dashing to and fro. Turned out the kitchen is in the pub across the courtyard. Just as well it wasn’t busy otherwise she would have been exhausted. Fruit and cinnamon was a nice combination but not a topscone.
You might think that a pretty little place like Killearn would be relatively untouched by war and that is largely true. However in 1943 the UK had well over 1000 prisoner of war camps and one of them was here. Fifty POWs were housed in two huts on the edge of the village. Don’t think any would have been frequenting the Old Mill … but who knows? Forty miles away in another village, Comrie, there was a much bigger POW camp. In 2009 a former German inmate announced he was leaving his entire fortune to the village as thanks for the kindness he had received there. Let’s hope the current exchange of prisoners between Israel and Palestine can lead to some sort of reconciliation.
ps: Killearn lies in a beautiful valley called Strathendrick which coincidentally is the name of our house back in Falkirk. Don’t know why it’s called that but that was the name when we bought it!
Getting to Spean Bridge Mill wasn’t by way of our intended route. Our mood on finally leaving Kinloch Lodge matched the weather … it was raining! We wanted to take the ferry from Armadale to Mallaig on the mainland so that we had a different route going home. Unable to book on line, however, we decided to just turn up. The ferries are big boats after all and during the winter months they would be quiet. Wrong! CalMac, the ferry operator, had not only reduced the number of crossings from nine to two per day, they have also reduced the size of the boat. It could only take ten cars and guess what, we were … car eleven! The ferryman said “you couldn’t book because it was full” We said “but it doesn’t say that on the booking site?” He said “I know, it’s not fair“… argh!
the bridge from Skye to Kyle of Lochalsh on the mainland
Retracing
We had no choice but go back the way we had come and use the Skye Bridge, Now our return route was to be the same as that taken on our way to Skye several days ago. Thankfully, this time, there was no snow on the high ground as we approached Cluanie, We stopped briefly at the Commando Memorial just before reaching the village of Spean Bridge. The Memorial looks out over the hills of Ben Nevis though today they were all shrouded in mist.
Pat and the Commando Memorial
On the 11th of this month we had Armistice Day. Wouldn’t it be good if this day was used to display the true horrors of war and the abject stupidity of it all? That might be more productive than one that honours it and sanitises it with poppies. These commandos were paid a pittance to go out and kill and be killed. Most veterans say wars are nothing but a complete waste. The way we honour war makes it much easier for politicians to ease their consciences and start meddling in other people’s affairs. Perhaps with wars being a veritable gold mine for some people it might be an idea to forbid all MPs from holding any kind of interest in arms companies. Or … world leaders should be compelled to recite the words of “Where is the Love” by the Black Eyed Peas. Just a thought!
Panto season
At least Armistice Day finally gave Rishi Sunak the backbone to, at long last, get rid of Home Secretary, Suella Braverman. Her rabble rousing statements labelling Palestinian protests as ‘hate marches’ didn’t really leave him much option. They were attended peacefully by over 300,000 people with most of the trouble caused by thugs from the Islamophobic, English Defence League.
The return of Dave
In his reshuffle, Rishi has brought back former Prime Minister, David Cameron as Foreign Secretary. Since he’s not even an MP, Rishi could only do this because yesterday at breakfast time, the King made Cameron a Lord. That means he can only sit in the completely unaccountable House of Lords. And here’s us thinking that the pantomime season hadn’t started yet!
Cameron was PM when we started this blog eight years ago and there’s been an unbelievable five PMs since then. With Ukraine and Israel, Cameron has undoubtedly got his work cut out so we can only wish him luck. It’s ironic that Israel seems hell-bent on casting itself as the worst abuser of human rights and breaker of international laws since the Nazis. America’s unswerving support for Israel could make you suspect that it will become the 51st state. Could it be that they just see themselves as fellow colonisers? The war is thinly disguised as a war against Hamas but what is Hamas? Nowhere in the media have we seen any attempt to explain why Hamas even exists. Another mystery!
Self service
Anyway, enough ranting, what about the scones or is that going to be another rant? Spean Bridge Mill is only a couple of miles from the Commando Memorial. It is a woollen mill quite obviously set up to cater for busloads of tourists … gift shop, whisky shop etc. At this time of year it’s quiet. In the cafe, almost the first thing we came to on the self-service counter was the scones … preloaded!. Goodness, they were impressive! So impressive we decided to give them a try. It wasn’t until we reached the cash desk we realised they had some normal scones as well. By that time it was too much hassle to go back and start again.
To make matters worse they had put the jam on top of the cream! And here we are thinking Cameron had problems! And to make matters even WORSER, they were quite good. Mamma mia! You had to eat them with a fork and knife and spoon but they tasted good and were a nice consistency. They reminded us of Kiki McColl’s scones at Liosbeag Café on the Isle of Lismore eight years ago. Obviously Spean Bridge Mill wasn’t a topscone but definitely an experience.
After that we were homeward bound again after a memorable few days away. Although we covered a fair bit of Skye there was lots we didn’t get to. We need to go back … and the sooner the better!
ps: Suella has just published a three page letter announcing that her former boss, Rishi Sunak, is a complete waste of oxygen. He’s behind you Suella … oh no he isn’t, oh yes he is!
You know how we’ve been going on bit about family connections to the Isle of Skye. We’re very aware that if you’re not a MacDonald or a McKinnon then it could be of limited interest. So, if you’re bored already you should stop reading because there’s more MacDonald stuff coming up in this post. My middle name being MacDonald has got nothing to do with it … honest!
Titles
Today we are at the Antlers Tea Room which is part of the Portree Hotel. The hotel was built in 1875 and stands on the corner of Somerled Square.
A painting of the hotel in the bar
The Square is so named to commemorate the great Celtic warrior Somerled who died in 1164. His son, Donald, became the first Lord of the Isles and the MacDonalds (sons of Donald) are all descended from him. The current Lord of the Isles is Prince William, Prince of Wales, who also bears the other Scottish titles of Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick and Baron of Renfrew … really? We think the MacDonalds, whose chief now lives at Kinloch Lodge, need to get that “Lord of the Isles” title back! It seems only right.
Anyway, we ordered a fruit scone to share at Antlers because they were quite big and we thought that’s all we could manage. We have to be ever mindful that there’s a fabulous dinner being prepared for us back at Kinloch Lodge. It would be rude not to be able to do it justice. A good decision because our scone wasn’t that great. It had plenty of fruit but it was just too soft and a little bit stodgy. Shame because with its big wood burning stove it was a nice cosy place.
Looking over Portree harbour
Good guys
There’s a small plaque on the wall outside that commemorates a speech given from the hotel balcony by radical republican Michael Davitt in 1887. He had already been imprisoned a couple of times for speechifying. Scotland’s land ownership has long been something of a monopoly. Most private land is held by a mere handful of people. During the Highland Clearances people were driven off the land – you can see ruined and abandoned villages all over Skye. Davitt campaigned long and hard for crofters to have the right to stay on their land. Not a MacDonald but still a ‘good guy’. He must have been because he spend much of his life being imprisoned by the British establishment.
But enough of Davitts, let’s get back to MacDonalds. When we left Antlers replete with half a scone each we headed north on the road that leads to the Old Man of Storr. Normally we would cut off at Staffin and take a rather tortuous road across to Uig where we were usually trying to catch a ferry to the Outer Hebrides. The road, however, carries on through Staffin and round the Trotternish peninsula. Eventually it ends up at Uig as well. It’s longer hence we have never taken it before. We were now venturing into unknown territory. It’s very scenic and, if you’re not in a hurry, well worth the extra miles.
Unsafe
At the most northerly point we came to ruins of Duntulm Castle, an ancient MacDonald stronghold.As recently as the 1990s a large part of it fell into the sea and what’s left is considered too unsafe to visit. However, that may also be because of several ghosts that we’re told still reside there.
Just a mile or so further south we came to Kilmuir churchyard. There’s no church these days but the graveyard where Flora MacDonald is buried is still there. She and Bonnie Prince Charlie landed here having sailed from Benbecula where he had been hiding from the redcoats. He was dressed as Betty, one of Flora’s female servants. Something, we suspect the Bonnie Prince enjoyed more than he should. The crossing was romanticised in the song The Skye Boat Song.
The monument looks out over the Minch to South Uist in the Outer Hebrides where she was born
The headstone inscription reads: ‘Flora MacDonald. Preserver of Prince Charles Edward Stuart. Her name will be mentioned in history and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour.’
She was imprisoned in the Tower of London for her trouble and is generally seen as a Jacobite heroine. Later, however, she said that if she had found the Prince’s arch enemy, the Duke of Cumberland in similar circumstances she would have done the same for him. She was just another ‘good guy.’
Fashion
Amazingly we also found that Alexander McQueen, the talented but troubled fashion designer and couturier is also buried here. Although from London he loved the Isle of Skye … the land of his father. Readers have probably always wondered why Pat and I are always so stylish and debonaire. One of our twin daughters was Digital Director for Alexander McQueen while her sister was doing the same for Jimmy Choo. We know you’ve always wondered!
Sadly this is our last day on Skye. On our way back for dinner at Kinloch Lodge we stopped off at Sligachan hotel. This was an old haunt when it was mainly frequented by hairy unwashed climbers. It’s definitely gone upmarket since then.
Evening view of the Black Cuillin from Sligachan
Seeing this view of the Black Cuillin brought back memories of camping high up amongst these peaks and using them as a kind of playground. At that time ‘wisdom’ wasn’t a word that could be remotely associated with me or my friends. However, they say it comes with age. I wish I could say that today when my desire to be back up on the Cuillin ridge was tempered by age-acquired wisdom. It wasn’t, t was all down to age-acquired decrepitude.
Black Cuillin ridge by www.summitpost.org
There was nothing else for it … back to Kinloch for more pampering!
ps: In the interests of balance we should point out that some people see the MacDonalds and the McKinnons as nothing more than lying thieving good-for-nothings. However, they are usually McLeods or Campbells … and what do they know? Pots and kettles come to mind!
We’re off on a bit of a road trip! The idea is to make it to the Isle of Skye. Haven’t been there in a long long time so we’re excited at the prospect of visiting old haunts. However, unable to leave until mid afternoon the distance was going to be too much to reach our destination before dark. We are almost nostalgic for the days of just a few months ago when you could still drive around in daylight at 11pm. Now it’s dark about 4.30pm … boo!
The solution was to stop off about half way at Ballachulish Hotel. And half way to there is the Green Welly Stop where we took a break from driving after an hour or so. We are very aware that our Aussie readers are scratching their heads in. disbelief wondering why on earth we need a break so soon. Okay, Scottish roads are small and winding, there’s a lot of traffic and, most persuasively, our aging bladders leave us no option.
Locusts
When we used to hitchhike to Glencoe every weekend many of our lifts would turn off here in Tyndrum to go to Oban. We had to go straight on so we would get dropped off here at what was just a wee shop with a petrol pump. There was nothing much else in the village. Now, the wee shop has been transmogrified into the Green Welly Stop, a huge supermarket type place selling everything a tourist might conceivably want. It has a huge car park to cater for all the cars, coaches and motor bikes that also stop here. The West Highland Way passes close by, so lots of walkers frequent the place as well. It is extremely busy in the summer months and, of course, it has a cafe/restaurant to cater for people who descend like a plague of locusts and move on just as quickly.
For those not in the know, green wellies (rubber wellington boots) are associated with wealthy upper class people who like to visit the countryside. They wouldn’t be seen dead in anything else. The “green welly brigade” is a term that kind of pokes fun at them. The Green Well Stop, however, is anything but posh. It simply caters for loads of people who are just passing through. And the shop sells wellies in pretty much any colour you want!
We last reviewed this place back in 2015 and it hasn’t changed very much. A fruit scone and some coffee was the order of the day. A bit on the big side for our liking, the jam was extra and there was no cream. That said it was perfectly acceptable and exactly what you would expect from this sort of place.
Golden sunsets
Tyndrum has a gold mine but we couldn’t find anything in the shop made out of local gold. We left and headed on towards Glencoe. We did find local gold, however in the sunset as we started out across the expanse of Rannoch Moor … fab!
Looking from the Black Mount with Loch Tulla to the left
It was fabulous to drive through mountainous Glencoe in the evening light. We just caught the last of it as we arrived for our stop-over at Ballachulish and a catchup with an old friend.
Terrorists?
A trip like this makes you realise how fortunate we are to live in a country like Scotland. Wars and disasters elswhere in the world make us feel even luckier. Israel will eventually learn that eradicating Hamas simply won’t work. Traditionally, Britain has always labeled everyone who disagrees with them, ‘terrorists’. That is until the ‘terrorists’ are eventually proven to be right. Then they are invited for tea with the Queen. Britain tried to eradicate the IRA and although there is peace at the moment, the IRA is still there and always will be until the fundamental problem created by Britain is resolved. It’s the same in the Middle East
ps: our wonderful Utah correspondents have sent us news. It’s about as far away from Utah and Tyndrum as you can get. Recently, they were adventuring in East Grinstead and came across Bench RH19 and this rather delicious looking scone. They are hoping to return next year for more scone adventures … yeah!.
Storm Babet has abated leaving much devastation in its wake. We have come through unscathed and are out and about again. Having said that we got here to the Aurrie in a very round about way. Here’s how!
Miracles do happen
You all know by now that when the days start getting shorter we sometimes go to the cinema after breakfast. Today we had to drop our car off for repair, so the garage drove us to the Hippodrome, Scotland’s oldest cinema, to watch The Miracle Club. Set initially in Ireland it’s a heartwarming story about the women of Ballygar going to Lourdes in search of miracle cures. A tad predictable but suffice to say that they find Lourdes a bit of a con. Unsurprisingly no miracles of the God given kind but some minor ones of the human variety. It’s a good watch.
You get a cup of tea and a biscuit at the Hippodrome. It’s called a “cuppa screening”. All too much for a lady seated behind us who snored loudly for a considerable part of the film. Thankfully more a comment on her state of exhaustion rather than the quality of the film. There were a few giggles but no-one woke her. It’s all part of going to the cinema with a load of other retired folk. The garage collected us again and with our car restored and it being a nice day we set off into Fife.
Eventually we ended up in Lower Largo. it’s a pretty little fishing village where Pat used to go on holiday as a teenager. She would come with her best friend by bus and, at the time, although just about fifty miles, it seemed like the other side of the world from Glasgow. That was a fair while ago so she didn’t see much that seemed familiar today. However, what you do notice driving down to the beach is a number of strange sculptures and elaborately carved gates. They’re by local artist Alan Faulds who carves them from solid Scottish oak and decorates them with up to twenty coats of paint and varnish. Presumably to protect them from the salty air.
A couple of gates close to the Aurrie
Service over and above
The Aurrie is housed in what used to be a Baptist church down near the beach. These days it’s a café come gallery and event centre for the local community. It even serves as the cinema. There seemed to be very few customers when we arrived but it was quite busy. Lots of people hanging a new exhibition and setting out craft stalls. It had a great community feel to it, summed up nicely by one of the counter staff. She was sitting at a table with a baby sound asleep on her chest. At least it wasn’t snoring! The baby wasn’t hers, she was just looking after it for one of the women mounting the exhibition. Now that’s service!
Apparently, the Aurrie gets its name from an old Scots word for “area”. It’s applied to the slipway road leading down to the beach. The locals say that there are as many ways to spell it as there are grains of sand on the beach. We counted the grains and can confidently report that that is a slight exaggeration.
Plain as well as spiced apple scones were on offer. It had to be spiced apple! As we sat there with our scone watching everything going on (always interesting watching people deliberating how to hang pictures) we completely forgot to take a photograph of our little spiced apple wonder. Apologies! Suffice to say that it wasn’t topscone material but still very enjoyable. No lessons learned
Having watched The Miracle Club and witnessed community spirit thriving in Lower Largo the total disaster happening in Israel and Gaza seems all the more confusing and sad.
Another Alan Faulds piece on top of a K6 telephone box outside the Aurrie
What is noticeable, however, is the one-sided nature of the media coverage. With world leaders lining up, one after the other, in support of Israel it seems as if there is only one side to the story. The whole thing has been sparked by an atrocity launched on a music festival in Israel from Gaza. No-one seems to be asking why they would even think of doing that. As with most of the world’s trouble spots the origins lie with Britain. Past masters at creating countries based on religion. After partitioning Ireland on religious grounds in 1921 you might think that they would have learned from that experience before doing it again in India in 1946 and Palestine 1948? Apparently not!
You know how sometimes your day doesn’t quite start the way you expected. That’s what happened this morning. Before I had even had breakfast I found myself dangling high in the air over Falkirk High Street. It’s a long story. But more to the point, how did I get from that situation to Café Belgica in Bo’ness? We should, perhaps, attempt an explanation.
As soon as we came down stairs a friend was waiting at the front door. He wanted to know if I would like to take some photographs from a very unusual and very temporary viewpoint. In short, he’s renovating a building at the end of the High Street and had hired a cherrypicker for an hour to do some work on the roof. Within a matter of minutes I was up there taking pictures from an angle I have never seen before and am probably never likely to see again. Fortunately I had Lee, a very experienced operator with me. For me it was an unusual but great experience! My biggest concern, however, was whether I would get back down in time to go to the cinema which had been our original plan for the morning.
Compassion
The Hippodrome
No worries, we made it to our local Hippodrome picture palace in time to see a Ken Loach film called ‘The Old Oak‘. It’s a beautifully crafted compassionate movie about a village in northern England where the coal mine has long since closed and the people have next to nothing. The only thing left open is a very dilapidated pub, The Old Oak. It’s the only place for people to meet. When Syrian refugees arrive, however, tensions rise. There are some very ugly scenes but eventually basic human compassion for others who also have nothing wins the day. It should be compulsory viewing for all.
Sliding downhill
When we emerged back into the daylight it was lunchtime and after a short visit to the Bo’ness library we ended up here at Café Belgica which is housed in a huge furniture warehouse. It’s over five years since we were last here and back then we were bemoaning the Winter Olympics. They were being held in South Korea. In particular we were debating the merits of ‘skeleton’ (sliding downhill head first on a sledge) or ‘luge’ (sliding downhill feet first on a sledge). We wondered if there was much more than a handful of people in the world participating in either. The UK was still in the EU at that time and we offered a gold medal to anyone who could keep it that way. Regrettably, of course, we didn’t award any medals!
We had a delicious lunch and afterwards they offered us plain or cheese scones. Having slightly overindulged already it was a cheese scone to share. The service throughout had been cheery and efficient so we soon had our scone. It was presented with lots of butter and jam but we never feel that jam is appropriate for a cheese scone so it was just butter. All in all we thoroughly enjoyed our visit. No topscone but enjoyable nevertheless.
Making sense
Now it seems incredible that we despaired over something as trivial as the Winter Olympics. Today we look out onto a world where there is much more to despair about. Earlier we had seen an fabulous movie about the strength of human spirit and compassion. A couple of weeks ago, we experienced Pat’s McMillan Coffee Morning where people’s generosity and kindness raised £3,500. All to try and make people’s lives a little better. But here we are in 2023 and in Gaza and Ukraine all we see is people deliberately trying to kill each other. It’s bewildering and incredibly sad!
Early morning view of Falkirk High street
What makes it even worse is that it’s impossible to see any kind of resolution without a lot more bloodshed. Pathetically, in our comfortable little lives, we cross our fingers!
Forgive us if this post reads like ‘a day in the life of two slightly deranged sconies’, but bear with us. Although we ended up here at the Edinburgh Press Club, that’s not why we were in Edinburgh. Rather we were here to see the newly refurbished Scotch Malt Whisky Society Member’s Room. We have been members here since the beginning of time so after a two month closure we were keen to see what changes had been made.
This was the first day it was open again. Unfortunately they should probably have waited another few days before opening. It was still full of workmen doing last minute fixes. We need to return when the renovations are complete. However, we did manage a very nice lunch and a couple of very nice drams from the Coleburn distillery in Elgin. It has has been closed for almost 40 years so just a little bit special.
At the centre?
On our way back up the centre of Edinburgh we decided to visit the actual centre. Most people think that the centre of the city is on the Royal Mile near St Giles Cathedral but it’s actually just at the top of Leith Walk. It’s a simple cast iron bollard which nobody takes the slightest notice of but it is very important. A fact of which the workmen digging up the road seem to be oblivious. Distance is measured from here. For example, when they say that Falkirk is 28.3 miles from Edinburgh it is actually measured to this bollard. Post codes are also worked out depending on their distance from the bollard.
It could well have been made in Falkirk but unfortunately we couldn’t find any maker’s mark. For bollard enthusiasts it doesn’t get much more exciting than this! We’re sure that if someone were to mention it was lucky to rub the ring on top of the bollard there would be a queue.and the workmen would have to be a bit tidier.
Oysters
Just a stone’s throw from the BOLLARD is the Cafe Royal Oyster Bar and that’s where we ended up next. It’s been here since the 1860s and, amongst many other things, is famous for its large tiled pictures that decorate the walls.
the bar of the Cafe Royal with tiled pictures
For us, of course, it’s famous as the rendezvous point for meeting our friends before and after Scotland international rugby matches. The result in these matches never seemed to matter too much, a great time was always guaranteed in the Cafe Royal. We can even remember some of them!
The Scotsman
Anyway, we had a drink for old times sake and moved on towards the Royal Mile. Unexpectedly we came on the Edinburgh Press Club and discovered that they had scones. Told you to bear with us and we get there in the end. It gets it’s name because it used to be the office and print works for ‘The Scotsman’ newspaper.
After our lunch we didn’t need much so yet again it was simply tea and a scone to share. We sat at the window which allowed us to watch the kaleidoscope of people passing by in Cockburn Street. Edinburgh is such a magnet for tourists that it can be great fun just observing the weird and the wonderful. A silent disco passed within a few feet of our window and, unless you know what is going on, you might think that an entire crowd had simultaneously lost their minds.
The original Edinburgh Press Club opened in 1939 as a sort of social club for journalists, writers and dignitaries. The intention was to make Edinburgh the “centre of sweetness and light.” In it’s current premises it harks back to a time of clacking typewriters before anyone had even heard of the internet and even less of “fake news”. We are pretty sure however that newspapers would have printed as much fake news then as they do now.
Fascinating as all this was, we soon had to turn our attention to our scone. Not before time we hear you say! It came with a generous portion of cream and overall it was fine but definitely fell into the ‘ordinary’ category. We never knew this place existed so it’s good just to know it’s there even if the scones aren’t quite up to scratch.
The sound of wealth
A window in Jinglin’ Geordie
When we left the Press Club to catch our train home we popped into ‘Jinglin’ Geordie’. It’s a pub that used to be a regular haunt in my student days. The Geordie in question was George Heriot a local goldsmith whose pockets were so full of coins that they jingled as he walked, hence the nickname. After he died in 1624, money from his estate was used to build George Heriot’s schools which still bears his name and was the inspiration for Hogwarts, Harry Potter’s school.
After a varied and rather nostalgic day we did eventually get our train back to Falkirk.
There’s a very tempting giant maze where, if you really tried, you could easily lose grandkids! We have to say, ours had an uncanny knack of finding us again. There’s paddle boarding or fly fishing instruction … whatever takes your fancy really. Then there’s the Glen’s Fort where you can rock climb up to the top of the tower then whoosh down a metal tube back to ground level. There’s Segway experiences and huge inflated pillows you can bounce on. There’s even 4×4 driving for kids. Amidst all this non-stop fun, however, we were delighted to discover that they also did some serious adult stuff … like scones. It wasn’t too long before we were drawn into the Basecamp cafe as if by some mysterious irresistible force. Ice cream seemed to have the same effect on the kids.
Okay, it’s not exactly high altitude Everest Basecamp but nevertheless we felt a scone report would be appreciated by our fellow sconeys. A fruit scone with some tea. was our relatively simple order. We took our scone to a table and waited for the tea … and waited … and waited! Needless too say, our fish-out-of-water server had completely forgotten. No worries it all worked out in the end. No cream but the slightly over-cooked scone came with some prepacked butter and a generous portion of blackcurrant jam. Enjoyable enough but not a topscone. Who cares when you can just sit looking out towards distant Ben Vorlich. The kids didn’t share any of their ice cream but by all accounts it was very good.
