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
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.
He 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.
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. He 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. However, our granddaughters abandoned us completely as soon as a girl appeared with a cardboard box containing a puppy. Can’t compete with a puppy!
Imagine for a moment that it’s the 18th century and you’re a farmer with a few cows on the Isle of Jura. The 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!
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 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
Before 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 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.
This is a post about boats, planes, surfing and a couple of scones. How exciting is that?
Last year Pat and I intended to celebrate our Golden Wedding at Coll Hotel. Just the two of us and a nice quite few days on an island would just be perfect. However, we had not reckoned with our children who announced that they were coming up from the south of England to celebrate with us. We had to curtail our stay on Coll and return home … but that’s another story. This year, because I had decided to have yet another birthday, Pat thought we should complete our stay at Coll Hotel. Hopefully this post illustrates some of the delights of a tiny island like Coll.
Travelling
For us, travelling by ferry is always fun, an event in itself! Looking out for dolphins, whales, birds and landmarks, passes the time very quickly. You really feel as if you are going somewhere. It was the MV Clansman that was taking us on our three hour journey from Oban. After Coll it sails on to the Isle of Tiree, returns to Coll then back to Oban. In summer it makes the round trip twice a day laden with tourists but at this time of year it’s relatively quiet.
We bought some eggs at an honesty box. The box was stuffed with money … no-one had bothered to empty it.
Normally in remote hotels like this the staff change with every season so it’s testament to Coll Hotel that they can retain their staff throughout the winter. It was great to see friendly familiar faces again. After our painful, never to be repeated, experience last year on bikes, this time we had the car. The island is 13 miles long and 3 miles wide. However, the twisty single track roads with sheep lying on them, dictate that you don’t get anywhere very quickly. But who needs to get anywhere quickly on Coll? After checkin in we headed off to the east end of the island as far as the road would take us.
Pat on the beach at Sorisdale. at the east of the island. Ardnamurchan on the horizon.
There are about twenty notable beaches and we didn’t meet anyone on any of the ones we visited. By the time we had explored this end of the island it was time to make our way back to the hotel for dinner.
One of the old traditional houses. Originally it probably had a turf roof
Twitching
Next day, the weather was lovely again and we were going to explore the rest of the island to the west, The previous day, Pat had started a bird list and was keen to add to it. The Island Café was closed so we told the hotel we would be back around 3pm for scones … got to check that standards are maintained after all!
Pat at the airport. No one there but you can just go in and use the facilities. Planes fly to and from the Isle of Tiree and Oban on the mainland
Approaching the west of the island you come on the extraordinary sight of the two Breachacha Castles … one old and one new.
Built in the 15th century Breachacha Castle was a stronghold of Clan MacLeanBuilt in 1750 this is the New Breachacha Castle currently for sale £450,000
While we were here, amongst other sightings we were able to add Snow Geese and a low flying Golden Eagle to Pat’s list … fantastic! None of the beaches are particularly accessible on Coll, They all involve a bit of a hike usually over massive sand dunes. The highest point is Ben Hogh a dune reaching a lofty 341 feet. We drove round to Bally Haugh (pronounced Bally Ho) beach but even that involved a trek of about half a mile.
Bally Haugh beach, best for surfing but we didn’t have our boards
What are the chances?
Here, its very easy to lose track of time. It was well after 3pm when we got back and too late for a scone. Sadly, it looked like this visit was going to be sconeless. It was after 5pm so time for a drink. Amazingly, in the bar the first people we met were a couple we had befriended in a bar in Oban before we left. Turns out they live just behind the Coll hotel.
Surprise, surprise, the staff gave a rousing rendition of “happy birthday” and a cake and a candle for every year of my mental age! We also made some new friends from Switzerland.
Next morning we, very reluctantly, had to take our leave. However, as we passed reception what should be on the desk but a little cardboard box. It contained two scones and some jam and cream to eat on the ferry. How nice was that? This is definitely one of our favourite hotels. We’ve run out of excuses to come back so we will just have to come back anyway.
Things must have happened out there in the big bad world but thankfully we are blissfully unaware.
The Clansman coming from Tiree to take us back to Oban
For those interested, this is Pat’s bird list compiled over one and a half days on Coll. There were geese everywhere but, of course 01, 13, 14 and 21 were particular highlights for us.
01 Great Northern Diver 02 Ringed plover 03 Fieldfare 04 Blackbird 05 Rock Dove 06 Greylag Geese 07 Starling 08 Common Gulls 09 Canada Geese 10 Hooded Crows 11 Grey Heron 12 Twite 13 Snow Geese 14 Hen Harrier 15 Oyster Catcher 16 House sparrow 17 Wren 18 Robin 19 Barnacle geese 20 Stonechat 21 Golden Eagle 22 Lapwing 23 Skylark 24 Raven 25 Curlew 26 Whopper swan 27 Mallard 28 Moorhen 29 Shag 30 Greenfinch 31 Collared dove.
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.
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.
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.
We 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!
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.
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!
It 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.
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 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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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. 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.
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.
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!
We’re on a mission! And, unbelievably perhaps, it’s not for a scone. We are trying to find where my grandfather, John McKinnon, was born. I never knew him but some information has come to light recently so we’re on his trail. He was born at the Heights of Fodderty just north of Inverness. That’s a long way, 170 miles. We know that our Aussie correspondents would regard this as comparable to a trip to the shops but for us it’s a long way. A stop was required round about the half way mark. That’s why we’re here in Hettie’s Tearoom in Pitlochry.
Remember our recent somewhat disastrous visit to Woodlea Cafe where chaos reigned and the scones were inedible? Well, this place is the exact opposite. It was busy but the chap at the counter welcomed us and said “I’m sure we can find you a nice wee table somewhere“. Already we were feeling good. The staff here know exactly what they were doing and seem happy doing it … great!
Oo Oo!
A fruit scone to share was our order. Pat chose a coffee and I chose Oo Oo Butterfly Blue tea. Apparently it’s supposed to help you “fly through a bright sunny day” … just the ticket! Hettie’s tearoom is super enthusiastic about tea and they send their special tea blends all over the world. Obviously my tea was loose leaf and came with its own egg timer so that I would know when it was suitable infused. They even give you a second saucer in case you want to remove the little basket of tea leaves. How thoughtful.
Red kites
We’re always on the lookout for birds and as we sat there we pondered on why we hardly ever see red kites. And when we do occasionally see them they always seem to be in relatively small geographical pockets. We reckoned it had to have something to do with them being a reintroduced species but then our attention was interrupted by the arrival of our scone. It was deliciously fresh and came with small pots of jam and cream. They don’t even ask if you want cream it just comes automatically. They know how to do things at Hettie’s Tearoom. Not very crunchy but thoroughly enjoyable nevertheless. Overall this was a delightful experience … topscone!
Multilingual directions to the toilets – cludgie is Glaswegian
McKenzies
You probably don’t want to know about my grandfather but we are going to tell you what little we know anyway. It illuminates an era which was not very long ago but now seems like a completely different world. We have never been to the Heights of Fodderty before and it was something of an adventure along almost impassible roads trying to find the house at Dochnaclear where he was born. John’s mother was a McKenzie and believe it or not McKenzie’s still live there.
Spooky
And equally unbelievable they run a very successful taxidermy service specialising in red deer. We hadn’t expected that! In one of the large outhouses they showed us a room full of stuffed red deer heads with magnificent antlers all ready for shipment to Dubai. It’s difficult not to feel conflicted about this sort of thing, but given that there are far too many of these fabulous creatures in Scotland doing untold damage to our forests and woodlands. we can just about handle it. And guess what, as we stood chatting a couple of red kites were wheeling overhead … spooky or what? Later we went to the schoolhouse where my great grandfather signed the register for his son’s birth with his mark.
Fodderty old schoolhouse with the mark (copied from the certificate) my great grandfather used
The laird, the doctor and the minister
It had never occurred to me before that members of my family would have been unable to read or write. It’s perfectly obvious, of course, when you think about it. Back then reading and writing was probably the preserve of the laird, the doctor and the minister. Anyway, John eventually moved to Fort Augustus where he married my grandmother, Catherine McDonald, in 1914. I never knew her either because she died four years later giving birth to my mother and her twin sister.
It seems almost inconceivable nowadays that John was left on his own with twin baby girls and their slightly older sister. Nowadays we take so much for granted. There was no NHS back then and social services must have been rudimentary at best. Presumably the local community would have stepped in to help him because all three girls grew up to be very fine women. He died in 1938.
Mission accomplished, we felt very satisfied with our day!
ps: In our wandering along the Heights of Fodderty we unexpectedly came across the Neil Gunn memorial. He is one of my favourite authors but one which I normally associate with Helmsdale, about 100 miles north of here. Turns out he spent the latter part of his live just a couple of hundred yards away from where my grandfather was born. It’s a small world! We also named our eldest daughter (by 5 mins) Kirsty, after a character in his book The Silver Darlings.
The Neil Gunn memorial with the Cromarty Firth and Dingwall in the distance
He wrote in the mornings and spent the afternoons walking. Looking at the state of the world today we will leave you with one of Gunn’s observations as he walked his beloved Heights of Fodderty.
“For at the end of the day, what’s all the bother about? Simply about human relations, about how we are to live one with another on the old earth. That’s all, ultimately. To understand one another, and to understand what we can about the earth, and, in the process, gather some peace of mind and, with luck, a little delight.”
We’ve been here several times before and as most of you know, we reckon Fonab Castle serves the best scones in the world. It is our benchmark scone. But why Fonab 600 we hear you ask? It’s simply that this is our 600th scone since we started this blog back in 2015. Unbelievable, 600 scones and yet Pat still has the figure of a teenager and I am still compared to a “racing snake”. I’m sure that this doesn’t refer to my ability to move fast these days so it has to be a reference to my sylph-like figure.
Who is PM today?
It’s a milestone so, of course, what better way to mark the occasion than check that our benchmark scones are still up to scratch. Last time we did this was back in 2018. The Prime Minister of the day (we’ve had so many it’s like ‘soup du jour’ when it come to the Tories) was delivering a speech on withdrawal from the EU which totally ignored the wishes of the people of Scotland. Unfortunately, judging by recent events in the House of Commons, nothing has changed in the intervening years. But would Fonab’s scones have changed? That was the question facing us.
The Brasserie
You are also aware that we don’t just judge the scones. Service, presentation, ambience are all key ingredients for a topscone. Fonab is a bit posh but it doesn’t have to be. As long as it’s an overall nice experience we may very well dish out our top award.
Tea
When we arrived at Fonab we were immediately welcomed and shown to a table overlooking Loch Faskally and lofty Ben Vrackie. When we asked for our traditional ‘cream tea’ they said it might take about twenty minutes to prepare the scones. “would that be okay?” Of course! We settled down to peruse the tea menu. Pat decide on “Orange Blossom – a citrusy symphony in your teacup“. I went for the “Fonab Blend – a bespoke tea offering a bright and medium bodied cup with subtle aftertaste of hibiscus and rosehip“. Honestly, it’s getting as fantastical as whisky descriptions.
View from our table over Loch Faskally
Competition
After about twenty minutes our scones turned up about as fresh as it’s possible to get. Initially we thought they had been a trifle overdone but once again they were perfect. Beautifully warm, crunchy on the outside and wonderfully soft on the inside. Presentation with crisp linen napkins and little pots of jam and cream was second to none. Once again Fonab had managed to retain its position in spite of severe competition. Places such as Ackergill Tower in Wick Claridge’s in London and Schloss Roxburghe in the Scottish border country have tried hard but ultimately failed.
A lot has happened in the course of 600 scones. When we started David Cameron had just gained power for the conservatives. We’ve had another four conservative PMs since then but Cameron is probably still PM, albeit from the backseat. Scottish MPs seeking independence won 56 out of 59 Westminster seats … a fat lot of good that did! Scotland still has a majority wanting independence but don’t hold your breath. Scotland and the Falkland Islands are about all that’s left of the Empire.
If we had any sense we would give up now but, as you are very well aware, we are not over-endowed in that department. Lowly scones have taken us to places we would never otherwise have been and for that we are grateful. They have enriched our lives. But who knows, we might give up if Fonab ever gets knocked off its perch.
This post is about the folly of not preparing sufficiently. We came here to the Woodlea Cafe because of a recommendation from Tracy at The Bruce Arms in Limekilns. She had also recommended Ale and Pate in Dalgety Bay and that had proved very successful. Obviously Tracy had good taste in scones so we had high hopes for this place.
Sun-dried tomato scones?
The cafe is part of a farm shop on the outskirts of the small mining village of Crossgates in Fife. The local football team is Crossgates Primrose, which plays at Humbug Park. First thing in the farm shop is a butcher’s shop specialising in game. It’s run by a very friendly chap who used to be a gamekeeper in his native Hungary. Then you pass through between large wooden benches laid out with fruit and veg before coming to the bakery. Unbelievably it had sun-dried tomato, cheese and garlic, cherry and almond, blueberry, fruit and plain scones on display. They all looked great and the lady assured us that she had been up since 4am baking them specially for us. She was laughing as she told us but we absolutely believed her. I really fancied trying the sun-dried tomato scones but she said that she supplied the cafe next door so we decided to go there. As we were leaving, with a slightly perplexed look on her face, she calleded “It’s under new management“. Didn’t make much sense at the time but later on it absolutely did!
Disappointment
There were none of the sun-dried tomato scones that we had seen earlier but they did have fruit, cheese/garlic and cherry/almond. Pat went for cheese and I for cherry. We also asked for a bowl of soup and coffees to go with the scones. The girl at the counter wrote down the order meticulously then we went to find a seat.
Very soon we realised that all was not well. People were leaving and calling to the staff “Just cancel our order“. After half an hour we were preparing to do the same when a lady appeared and asked us what we would like …. argh!
We reordered and after another wait the scones arrived. Just scones on a plate, no jam, no butter, no napkins and obviously no cream. When one of the servers asked if everything was okay we said that we would rather have the soup before the scones. She said “of course” and after yet another wait the soup arrived but without spoons. We said we needed spoons for the soup and were told “of course” and they duly arrived … along with some forks?? The soup was quite good but it needed seasoning. However, the thought of asking for salt and pepper or even butter for the bread was too much for us to handle.
More disappointment
By this time we were settling in for what was obviously a farcical pantomime happening before our very eyes. People were still leaving. Some having not received any food and others because they had received some but had given up waiting for the rest. Having to ask for butter and jam for the scones topped it all off. Eventually we received two lots of butter from two different servers but in spite of asking three times for jam we never ever got any. The scones turned out to have been kept in the freezer overnight and were pretty much inedible. All in all this was a complete disaster. If we didn’t know differently we would have sworn that the UK government was running this place.
Systemless
Actually, it was a shame. The manageress kept going around telling people that this was only their second day as if to excuse the utter shambles. However, the staff were trying really hard and some may have even been close to tears. They wanted to do well but simply hadn’t a clue how to do it. The problem was that there was no system and obviously no meaningful training. The stuff that actually emerged from the kitchen looked fine so it all seemed just a dreadful waste.
The manageress, who, along with her husband, turned to be the ‘new management’ was desperately trying to placate everyone. However, we know all too well just how difficult hospitality can be so we try not to criticise negatively. We had a chat with the manageress who was like a rabbit caught in the headlights. We advised her that the best thing she could do was close and open up again once they had themselves sorted out. Hopefully she does because it could be a great place. She didn’t charge for the scones.
Rise and Fall
If you thought our comment earlier regarding the UK government was harsh, it really wasn’t. Can’t remember the last time they got anything right. Unfortunately, although there is to be a General Election this year, none of the alternatives inspire any confidence either. Britain’s problems are deep seated … we seem to be witnessing the Fall bit of the Rise and Fall of the British Empire.
When we started this blog all these years ago we never dreamt that we would be reporting on scones from a defunct silver mine called the Day Dream Mine. Obviously we’re not dreaming. Yes, of course, our itinerant Toowoomba correspondents are on the road again just wandering from scone to scone across the Australian outback. Here the scones can be quite far apart so are all the more welcome when they appear.
On this road from Broken Hill to Silverton they came across a rare cap tree
At Day Dream they seem to have decided that some people may not want to venture down a mineshaft but they sure as hell won’t miss a scone.
In their own words:
“We have driven 4000kms for these scones! We have had a couple of nights in Broken Hill, Western NSW. Broken Hill is an inland mining city, mainly of silver ore. It was always referred to as “The Silver City”. It is pretty much surrounded by desert. The colours of the area are very muted, red soil and grey foliage. We drove about 20 kms north of BH towards Silverton to a derelict mine called “Day Dream Mine “ – where that name comes from I would not hazard a guess! However, the sign in the gate tempted us to go through. To be honest the experience was pretty underwhelming! The fact that we paid over $70 to walk around rocks and dust looking down a few holes was not terribly exciting. I did venture down the mine shaft, narrow, dark, steep and at last, cool!
Miners worked by candlelight
It did make me think of the years gone by when men were men and very tough at that. Their lives must have been hell. The bonus after all that was when you reached the top – waiting was a mug of tea and freshly baked scone and “real” cream. Not sure that we would hurry back for that experience again, but you always meet interesting people in these places. On to Silverton from there – the frontier setting for such movies as Mad Max, Priscilla – Queen of the Desert, Razorback and the list goes on!”
The list may well go on but none of these movies can be described as “homely” or even “normal”. Just as well our correspondents have scones to keep them on the straight and narrow!
It would appear that it’s called the Day Dream Mine because the miners used to grow poppies … nuff said! Anything to make the working conditions slightly more bearable.
He 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.
He 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. 
However, our granddaughters abandoned us completely as soon as a girl appeared with a cardboard box containing a puppy. Can’t compete with a puppy!
