For some time now Pat has been dropping hints about visiting Helensburgh. As a wee lass she and her mum used to go there by train from their home in Drumchapel. They would play on the beach and swim in the outdoor pool. On the other hand, I didn’t know the town at all. However, recently I have become increasingly aware of it as the start-point of the 134 mile long John Muir Way. It begins in Helensburgh before passing very close to our house in Falkirk then finishing on the east coast at Muir’s birthplace in Dunbar. It’s very popular with walkers and cyclists.

So on this rather wet and humid day it was a kind of nostalgia trip for Pat and, for me, an introductory visit to this west coast town.

Memories

Memories are funny things and sometimes they can play tricks on you. The beach that Pat remembered so well is actually a rather dismal strip of sand about four or five feet wide and about thirty feet long. When the tide’s out, it consists, almost entirely, of a vast area of dark slippery seaweed over rough rocks. The swimming pool is now closed though apparently it is due to be completely rebuilt in the next year or so.

TV and all that

The town’s sea front consists mainly of fairly dilapidated ice cream parlours, the usual charity shops and the odd rather sorry looking pub. In the 2014 Scottish independence referendum one of the claims from the union side was that this town would be devastated by independence and the withdrawal of the nearby Royal Naval Base. Well today it was looking pretty devastated even with all the phantasmagorical benefits that the UK supposedly brings. Most of the workers on the base live in the south of England so the town derives little benefit.

As we walked along the front we came across a memorial to John Logie Baird, inventor of television and a native of the town. He gave the first ever demonstration of the new fandangled technology in what used to be Falkirk’s Temperance Hotel. It all happens in Falkirk! By the time we reached the west end we were feeling pretty depressed by the general state of decay so we decided to go one street back from the sea for our return journey. What a good idea that was. Otherwise we would not have come across the lovely Colquhoun Square and this delightful little bistro/café, the Sugar Boat.

Dog biscuits

We were welcomed with open arms into a beautifully appointed restaurant, come wine bar, come coffee house … fab! We did think about sitting outside since the rain had stopped and it was still very warm but there was a nice little café area just inside the door so we sat there instead. There was a really nice restaurant area at the back but we were not in the business of a full meal … just a ‘you know what’. The ones on display looked promising. The service was great and we were soon kitted out with our drinks and scones complete with jam and clotted cream. We enjoyed everything about this place. Lots of nice touches. Beer from one of our favourite islands, Colonsay, and even a glass jar with complimentary dog biscuits. Apparently we didn’t qualify due to our lack of dog.

An overall lovely experience and no problem awarding a topscone.

In case you are wondering who Helen of Helensburgh was, it was Lady Helen Sutherland, wife of Sir James Colquhoun who owned everything around these parts in 1785 … his descendants probably still do! Before that it was known as Millig.

Thanks largely to the Sugar Boat we left Helensburgh feeling in a much more positive mood than when we first arrived. Even the weather had improved. Our route took us through the lovely village of Rhu with its marina and beautiful Victorian country houses to the Faslane Naval Submarine Base. Home to the famous Faslane Peace Camp,  first established in 1982 and still going today.

We’re doomed

From there we drove over Glen Douglas to Inverbeg on Loch Lomondside with an ever increasing sense of impending doom. Our progress was halted by a herd of cattle standing on the single track road. None of them looked very happy and certainly didn’t seem inclined to move. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the hill on the right behind the white cow. It is actually hollow and filled with enough nuclear warheads to blow the entire world to kingdom come.

The cows are not the only ones that feel dismayed about these useless weapons of mass destruction. Scotland overwhelmingly would like them all moved to a warehouse next to Westminster. Even better, since all the warheads actually belong to the USA, to a warehouse near the Whitehouse.  Scotland, of course, has no voice in such matters. Eventually, the cows wandered off and we were able to continue. It has to be said though that Glen Douglas has a decidedly spooky feel about it.

G84 8AQ      tel: 01436 647522        Sugar Boat

ps. Speaking of the USA. The Pedant has just returned from adventures in the New England and sent this photo of a K6 in Ely, Cambridgeshire, Old England. He sent it because it is still a fully functioning call box. Not a book swap library, not a CD exchange, not a defibrillator point, not for growing geraniums … a call box! And why is this wonderful thing still functioning after all these years … because it was made in Falkirk of course! Told you it all happens in Falkirk.