Tag Archives: Gartmore

The Station Coffee Shop

1 May 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 8 Comments

Okay, we see all your perplexed expressions asking how come we’ve ended up in the the Station Coffee Shop in Aberfoyle when there isn’t even a railway there? And well you might ask, although of all the things featured in this post that might be the least mysterious and the easiest to answer.

The simple answer, of course, is that at one time the Strathendrick and Aberfoyle railway which ran from Glasgow ended here. It was supposed to go on to Crianlarich but, would you believe it, this was as far as the funding would take it. Funding problems are not new! It opened in 1866 and ran until 1951 so although we regularly visit the village we have never known it to have a station. Now the station building has become the Station Coffee Shop.

But that’s not why we are in Aberfoyle! That’s a bit of a mystery as well and the people responsible are our Devon correspondents. We haven’t seen them for four years but they came to visit us in Falkirk on their way to the Scottish Taiko Drumming Festival … in Aberfoyle! One of them actually does taiko back home in Talaton hence the big trek north. Bear in mind that Devon is a cream first place when it comes to scones so it’s hardly surprising that they might be into ancient Japanese drumming as well!

This was Scotlands first ever Taiko festival. An opportunity not to be missed to see Kenny Endo, an American musician and taiko master. When it comes to taiko our ignorance can only be described as complete and profound. Did we want to learn? Mysteriously, we ended up buying tickets for his concert at Killearn Village Hall in the evening.

Taiko stuff

Anyway, it’s customary to start every taiko festival with a scone. Apologies, that’s not true, we are just trying to justify ourselves. There was lots of taiko stuff going on across the road in the Forth Inn but it was all for people wanting tuition. We just wanted a scone hence we are here tucking into a rather handsome fruit scone. To be honest it didn’t look that promising but turned out to be very good. It had a rather strange but not at all unpleasant texture and loads of fruit. The cream came in a jar labeled ‘English’, not advisable perhaps in a week starting with the theft of Scotland’s Stone of Destiny yet again. More of that later.

Never too old to learn!

After a walk round Aberfoyle we headed for dinner to the next village and one our favourite pubs … the Black Bull in Gartmore. The railway used to run through Gartmore as well so there must have been a station here too. No evidence of it today! You may remember that we stayed at the Black Bull when we visited the nearby Devil’s Pulpit.

After a lovely meal it was time to head off to yet another village, Killearn, for the concert. The Village Hall here is a very plush affair and during the day has a lovely cafe called the Kitchen Window. When we got there the hall was packed, presumably with other taiko officianados like ourselves? Unfortunately the stage was far too small to accommodate all the drums so they had to spill over onto the main floor. Pride of place, however, went to a very impressive drum that apparently was made from a single 300 year old tree. It’s called a wadaiko and, rather appropriately, the wooden sticks are known as bachi. See, we do learn!

Once everyone had settled, a hush fell over the hall as Kenny and his troupe of about ten players entered. We had been told it would be loud … it’s loud! Even sitting at the back of the hall you could feel the vibrations through your body. Kenny Endo in action

At first, it seems like a lot of very loud random drum bashing but very quickly you come to realise how disciplined it is. Every ‘bash’ is coordinated with all the other players and once your ear becomes accustomed it is all rather wonderful. A great experience. Many thanks to J&N.

Escape

The last mystery for this post is the coronation. Why? Turns out less than 30% of Scotland are in favour of the monarchy and they are nearly all octogenarians. We were hoping to escape the proceedings on a Hebridean island without any televisions. That plan, however, has become a victim of circumstance so it will be difficult for us, and indeed anyone, to miss the 24hr obsequious coverage.

As Charlie places his fundament on Scotland’s Stone of Destiny people in the street outside who simply utter a single word of criticism will be promptly arrested and, who knows, may never be seen again. We are all supposed to swear an oath of allegiance to Charlie while sitting on our sofas. What planet are his advisers on? The most ridiculous and expensive fancy dress party designed solely to cement the top tier of society in what they regard as their rightful places. Instead of angelic choristers we can only hope that Kenny Endo will be doing the music. At least some of the nonsense being spouted by Archbishops in even weirder hats than Charles, would be drowned out. We’re also being invited to say “God Save The King“. Forgetting of course that, if there was a God, he/she/it would thoroughly disapprove of the entire spectacle.

BREAKING: wonder of wonders, Edward, yes that completely talentless nonentity, is to be the brand spanking new Duke of Edinburgh. Individually they are all nice people but why are we allowed to do this to them? After this post we fully expect a knock on the door!

BREAKING BREAKING: Donald Trump has just landed in Scotland. Goodness, this rant could go on forever!

FK8 3UG tel: 01877 389105 The Station

///prank.belt,buildings

Ordinary, Scones, self-service

Edenmill Café

5 March 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 16 Comments

Our short break at the Black Bull in Gartmore has come to an end. It’s been a lot of fun but today we have to head for home … boo! We decided, however to return by a different route and that’s how we came to end up at the Edenmill Café. What took us in the direction of Edenmill was a search for the Devil’s Pulpit. No one quite knew why we had heard of the Devil’s Pulpit except for a vague recollection that it featured in Outlander. It wasn’t easy to find!

Believable?

We should have known we were in the right area, however, because the landscape round here is dominated by the Whangie, a strange rock formation where, many years ago, we used to go for practice rock climbs if we could’t make it as far as Glencoe. Apparently the weird cleft in the rock was formed by Satan’s tail when he rushed round the mountain, late for a witch’s coven. Okay, okay, but let’s face it, if you believe Westminster’s story about Brexit being a wonderful success, you might as well believe this one too! In fact, it’s a lot more believable!

Sacrifices

Anyway, there were no direction signs whatsoever for the Devil’s Pulpit. It was almost as if we weren’t supposed to go there! Eventually we parked in a rough area beside some other cars and reckoned they would be trying to find it as well. All we knew was that it is was”over there somewhere.”

Danger of death

We headed off across a field and knew we must be getting close when we came across some sacrificial offerings hung high on a telegraph wire. No idea why so many trainers were strung up there but hopefully their owners hadn’t come to some dark satanic misfortune. Goodness, it was the devil’s own job trying to find this place. After wandering in all sorts of directions we eventually came on a path through a wood that looked promising. The Devil’s Pulpit is actually an extremely narrow 100ft deep gorge in Finnich Glen. There didn’t seem to be any way to access it that didn’t involve certain and immediate death.

Way down to the Devil's Pulpit — Almost vertical slippery Devil’s Steps with only a rope (thick green string) to hang on to

A notice saying “Exploring Finnich Glen – Danger of Death or Serious Injury” didn’t really help! And when we did eventually find the ‘official’ access point, it didn’t look at all inviting. Not called the Devil’s Steps for nothing! We could hear the squeals of the youngsters who were half way down and thought that it might not be the best thing for old arthritic codgers like us. Just think of the humiliation having to be rescued … many have had exactly that experience!

the Devil's Pulpit — it’s kind of magical if you can get down there … and back up!

Alpacas

We asked a teenager emerging back up the steps if there were any scones down there. The response was puzzled but negative so that sealed the deal. Enough adventuring, we were off to the Edenmill Café just a few miles further down the road!

Edenmill is huge and seems to do all sorts of things. There’s a butcher shop, a soft play area and a bunkhouse as well as the café. Pat wanted to go alpaca trekking but, in the end, the lure of the scones proved too much.

We placed our order then went outside to sit in the warm spring sunshine. Still feeling the effects of the Black Bull breakfast it was just some coffee and a fruit scone to share. No cream but it was presented with plenty of pre-packed jam and butter and it had nice crunchy exterior we like. We thoroughly enjoyed it but perhaps the sunshine and that feeling you get having narrowly cheated death was enhancing our experience. Maybe a slight exaggeration! Enjoyable but not quite a topscone! Haven’t had a topscone in ages!

Eventually we had to part company with our Trossachs correspondents and make our way back home. They have been brilliant company and now we feel much better acquainted with this part of the world. Look forward to doing it all again sometime.

G63 9AX tel: 01360 771707 Edenmill

///brains.frosted.loaning

ps: Apparently there is an upcoming £2million pound project to build a large car park, a café, visitor centre and easily accessed viewing platforms at the Devil’s Pulpit. Presumably to cater for all the Outlander fans. We’re happy to have seen it in its raw state.

Ordinary, Scones

Macmillans Kitchen

28 February 2023 billpaterson1@me.com 3 Comments

Honestly, any connection between this and our previous post from Stirling Bull Sales is purely coincidental. We’re away for a few days to recuperate from the frantic days of retirement. In the depths of the Trossachs and Loch Lomond Country Park there is the little village of Gartmore and the Black Bull Inn where we’re hoping our Trossachs correspondents will join us.

A few years back the community bought the Inn in a bid to keep it open. They have done a great job so we like to support them whenever we can. Before we got to the Black Bull, however, we stopped off at the Benview Garden Centre. The cafe is called Macmillan’s Kitchen.

It was a beautiful day so we spent a wee while going round the plant area but soon it was scone time. The restaurant is a big friendly place with an eclectic mix of stuff for sale. However, having pre-booked dinner at the Black Bull we didn’t want to spoil our appetite. It was just a toasted sandwich and a scone … sharing both.

Stop off

We thoroughly enjoyed the sandwich and then it was on to the scone. No cream but it did come with Danish butter and some absolutely delicious jam. The scone was good as well. Quite big but with lots of fruit, just like a fruit scone should be. All in all MacMillans Kitchen was good but not quite good enough for a topscone award. Unfortunate, but a super place for a stop off. It was only a short distance to the Black Bull, our home for the next few days

Salad days

When we arrived at the Black Bull we were greeted with this notice board advising us to have cocktails rather than a salad.

It’s ironic that nowadays it is almost impossible to make a salad because there’s hardly any of the ingredients in the shops. Where there once was supermarket shelves groaning with tomatoes, lettuce and fruit, now there are mostly empty shelves. Sometimes there are signs informing you that customers are limited to one or two tomatos. All sorts of things are blamed for this. As usual,Putin is the main culprit though just how he managed to steal all our fruit and veg is beyond our comprehension. Sometimes bad weather in Morocco is blamed?

One thing that’s never blamed is Brexit. Never mentioned by the government or the media in spite of there being no similar shortages in the EU. Very odd! Rather than mention the word, Brexit is now referred to as “pre referendum” or “post referendum”. Could it be that the current delicate UK/EU negotiations over the N.Ireland Protocol mean that the word “Brexit” has been outlawed?

“Stories never start with a salad” sounds like an absolute truism. Given we may not even be able to get a salad we will just have to do with cocktails. It’s Putin’s fault! Just as well our Trossachs correspondents have joined us!

G63 0QZ tel: 01360 850222 Macmillans Kitchen FB

///suiting.realm.trustees

Ordinary

Liz MacGregor’s Coffee

19 October 2015 billpaterson1@me.com 1 Comment

Those of you who know Aberfoyle probably already know that this is Rob Roy country so the name of this particular tearoom is maybe not that surprising. The reason for us being here is once again down to R B Cunninghame Graham. You may remember, he wrote about the Princess of Buckhaven in a previous post. In another of his stories, ‘A Braw Day’, written in 1900 about his last day at his home in Gartmore House. He makes a passing reference .. ‘the curious moondial, with its niches coloured blue and red’.

If you Google ‘moondial’, unsurprisingly, it tells you that it is an instrument for telling the time using the moon rather than the sun. It also says it is only accurate on the night of a full moon. One week before or after a full moon it is more than 5 hours out! Why on earth would you bother?

We thought we should try to find out if it was still there and to see what sort of form it took. You’re probably thinking, “this pair couldn’t find a harbour the last time they went looking, what chance a tiny moon dial?” Turns out you would not be too far wrong. This particular moondial is no longer telling the time at Gartmore House .. it had been used to help fill in a harbour in Fife!! No, no,no, no, we did eventually find it tucked away round the back of the local Parish Church in a plot dedicated to the Cayzer family who bought Gartmore in 1901.

How to work a moondial

There it was .. not at all what we expected. A couple of hundred years ago, someone, somewhere spent a lot of time and effort designing this thing and presumably it must be more accurate than the Google one assuming you know how to read it. It’s an extremely complicated piece of kit. It cries out for explanation by some of you repositories of useless information. Yes, we are thinking of the Ludbrokes and Hopwoods of this world! Having spent some considerable time trying to figure it out, we concluded that, rather than get up in the middle of the night and go out in the dark to find out what the time was, we would just keep using our iPhones in that traditional and time honoured manner.

Now, if you have ever been engaged in hunting down moondials, you will know that time passes quickly. Before we knew it, it was late afternoon and we hadn’t yet had a scone. The solution was a couple of miles away in Aberfoyle where it was great to see everyone still sitting out at all the roadside cafés, in the mid-October sunshine. However, time was pressing and we just managed to catch Liz MacGregor’s Coffee Shop before it closed. We got the very last scone.

Rather than fight about it, Pat made the ultimate sacrifice and opted for a piece of coffee cake. I, the winner, set about my fruit scone. It came with a pot of jam and a very generous portion of cream. Not that much of a winner though. Perhaps, because it was the last one, it did not seem as fresh as it should have been. Not bad though, I enjoyed it but no ‘topscone’ award. It’s always a wee bit unfortunate when you get a place that’s just about to close. You end up the only ones there and feeling as if you are holding up proceedings. Not that anyone tried to rush us in any way whatsoever .. but you just get that feeling. But, with everything taken into account … lovely weather, a scone, a moondial … an all round ‘braw day’.

A Master of Life

On the nearby Cunninghame Graham memorial the epitaph reads “Robert Bontine Cunninghame Graham 1852-1936 – Famous Author – Traveller and Horseman – Patriotic Scot and Citizen of the World – As Betokened by the Stones above. Died in Argentina, interred in Inchamahome – He Was a Master of Life – A King Among Men”. He is still hugely venerated in Argentina which has its presidential elections today. Something, being the politician that he was, would have hugely interested him. Canada also goes to the polls to today, it will be interesting to see if Harper’s Putinesque administration can survive. Let’s hope it’s a ‘braw day’ for the folks in Argentina and Canada as well.

FK8 3UG tel: 01877 389376 Liz MacGregor’s Tearoom TA

ps: Why don’t you Google the word ‘subsequently’, it has a great explanation.

Scones, history and a dollop of politics