Tag Archives: William of Orange

Café Ecosse

 “Hands up anyone who has the slightest inkling of what is going on in British politics.” After yet another farce in the House of Commons last night that would be a perfectly valid question to ask. “No, Theresa, put your hand down”.

Let us have a go at defining ‘farce’. The British people, voted to leave the EU. We disagree fundamentally but recognise it as a simple straight forward instruction – ‘leave, no deal’! The fact that they did so on the basis of fairy tales and lies is beside the point. However, almost all our politicians, including the PM, are promising to “deliver on that instruction from the British people” while, simultaneously, ruling out ‘no deal’. That’s the farce … all ‘deals’ are contrary to what the people voted for. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more farcical Theresa May announces, after all this time, that she is willing to speak to the opposition? Whatever next?

What’s in a name?

Today we are in the town of Invernevis .. or at least, that’s what it will most likely be called once Scotland gets its independence from ‘the farce’. Currently it’s called Fort William. Originally it got its name from William of Orange who built it in order to control the locals. It was then renamed Gordonsburgh, then Duncansburgh before eventually reverting to Fort William. However, this time the ‘William’ bit was after Prince William, Duke of Cumberland otherwise  known fondly by Scots as “Butcher Cumberland”. Hopefully, when Scotland becomes independent it will rid itself of the name along with all other remnants of colonialism. Invernevis sounds good to us.

Internal view of Café Ecosse, Fort WilliamThe second largest town in the Highlands after Inverness it sits at the foot of Ben Nevis, the UK’s highest hill. It therefore has it’s own weather system as the rain clouds sweep in from the Atlantic. Annual rainfall is three times that of Edinburgh. It rains a lot and today is no exception. It also sits at the northern end of the West Highland Way and the southern end of the Great Glen Way so there are always a lot of wet walkers around. This place, Café Ecosse, is just the sort of place you might find them … it’s pretty basic. Nothing wrong with that as long as the scones are good!

Rescued hat

We were served by a young lady of indeterminate A scone at Café Ecosse, Fort Williameastern european origin who seemed to be running the place single handedly. They have a very elaborate customer service notice on every table which we felt was a bit OTT. We didn’t bother using it because the list of things in need of improvement would have been too long. We had a couple of sandwiches which were okay then we shared a scone. No cream but with plenty A notice at Café Ecosse, Fort Williamof fruit, it was okay  … no topscone but okay. At least we were in out of the rain. When we left Café Ecosse the rain had gone off and the young lady  who had provide our scone came running after us with my hat. I think Pat wished she hadn’t bothered. There’s nothing wrong with my hat so at least I was grateful!

Beira

Let us tell you about Beira, mother of all gods and goddesses. She was a giantess who had blue skin, rust coloured teeth and one eye. Hand down Theresa!! Beira built Scotland’s mountains with a magic hammer and when her maid Nessa was naughty she transformed her into a river which eventually formed Loch Ness. Ben Nevis was Beira’s mountain throne. Now, if you think this might be a little far fetched, can we refer you back to ‘the farce’ at the beginning of this post. Beira, suddenly seems quite plausible.

PH33 6AT                   tel: 01397 705751               EcosseFB     

 ///obeyed.spurring.revised

Glencoe Café

Old Mrs MacDonald had just prepared a fresh batch of scones.

Would you be wanting one, Duncan?” she asked the fresh faced young lad who had been lodging with her for the past two weeks. In the fading February light there was just the gentle flicker of the open fire where the scones had been baked. They were still sitting there keeping warm.

“Would you like cream with the butter and jam, Duncan?”

“That would be grand Mrs Mac, there’s nothing like a freshly baked scone. I like them crunchy on the outside and nice and soft in the middle”, Duncan replied.

Funny, that’s how I like them as well” said Mrs MacDonald in her soft highland accent.  She looked fondly on the youngster in the warm glow.

Highland hospitality

As part of the government forces made up mostly from clan Campbell, Duncan had been sent to Glencoe from Invergarry. You may remember us referring to their leader in our post on the Glen Lyon Tearoom. For some time now the Campbells had been enjoying the MacDonald’s scones. Little did Mrs MacDonald realise that later that same night, the signal would be given and she would be brutally murdered in her bed by the very same scone munching Duncan. This scenario was being played out in every house. The village was burned and the livestock taken. The Massacre of Glencoe in 1692 has thus become synonymous with betrayal. Even worse, a betrayal of highland hospitality … unthinkable!.

Internal view of Glencoe CaféClan of choice

The whole sorry affair came about because the MacDonald’s chieftain had been a day late in bending the knee to King William III of England. Perhaps better known as William of Orange, or in some parts, King Billy! Truth be told the MacDonalds of Glencoe, along with the MacGregors, did not have glowing reputations. Both clans were generally regarded by the authorities as outlaws and general ne’er-do-wells. It was the MacDonalds of Glencoe, however, who were to be slaughtered as a warning to other Scots who might get ideas.

Long memories

Nowadays, even though the local hotel has a sign at reception reading “No Hawkers or Campbells”, that’s all in the past. Although we ourselves are MacDonalds, it’s my middle name for goodness sake, we harbour no ill feeling. Having said that we have never knowingly spoken to a Campbell or eaten with one or willingly been in the company of one. Sharing a scone with one??? We jest … a little!

Internal view of Glencoe CaféThe dancing!

Anyway, all this is to simply give you a little background knowledge because today we are at the Glencoe Café. It wasn’t here in 1692 but if it had, it would have been burned to the ground. Last time we were in the area was only a few weeks back. A spot of hedonistic pampering at The Glencoe House Hotel. We explained  that Glencoe was our weekend destination of choice when we used to do Spiderman impersonations on the sheer rock faces of Aonach Dubh.  No, we didn’t do the outfit!

That wasn’t yesterday, however ‘the Coe’ still retains many happy memories for us both. Saturday night dances in the village hall were the stuff of legend. Much has changed in the intervening years however we think this café is built where the old village hall used to be. The big question was, would their scones be as good as the ones Mrs MacDonald gave to that Campbell fella?

Alan and Deirdre Copeland run the café and the gift shop with great enthusiasm. This is February and the café was full to overflowing . Goodness knows what it’s like when the place is buzzing with tourists in the summer months? We were seated next to three Brazilians who wanted to know where to go for a walk … eh? Just look out the window, you can walk anywhere! They were lovely people though who lived in Glasgow. They were on a day trip so didn’t have oodles of time. We pointed them towards Glencoe Lochan so we hope they got there and enjoyed it.

Egg timers?

All the Copeland’s tea is loose leaf and it’s served in glass teapots with internal diffusers and an egg timer … eh, again? It’s so you know when your tea is sufficiently infused … obviously! The scones are freshly baked every day and come with plentyA scone at Glencoe Café jam and cream.  All in all this is a friendly unpretentious place which is exactly what you would expect in this part of the world. We thoroughly enjoyed everything about it even though our scones didn’t quite make the grade.

Trust in short supply

Given the episode between the MacDonalds and the Campbells can anyone be really trusted? Donald Trump insists he has an emergency on his hands and needs ‘special powers’ to build The Wall. No one else can see the emergency so we guess it just has to taken on trust. Theresa May insists she is not running down the clock on Brexit. No one else sees that either so we guess it just has to be taken on trust. That’s a whole lot of trust.

School children all over the world are going on strike. They don’t have enough trust in their politicians to act on climate change. It’s not as if the world is running out of trust. It’s not a finite resource like gold or oil. It can be generated in endless amounts but, these days, it seems like a very scarce resource indeed.

Jeremy Corbyn must be thinking that as well with the seven MPs defecting from his Labour Party. He must be counting his blessings it’s only seven … ooops there goes another one, that’s eight! The surprise is that he’s surprised. The world is not devoid of trust though. The Conservative government has learned to trust Corbyn’s Abstaining Party to bail them out of whatever trouble in which they find themselves. Ooops there go another three, Tories this time. It’s difficult to keep up. Ooops there goes another Labour one! Where will it all end? What would old Mrs MacDonald have made of it all? Thank goodness we can trust Theresa to sort out Brexit?

In Syria, as jihadi bride or daft lassie, Shamima Begum has her passport revoked we’re tempted to ask “What about the Campbell’s passports?” But we won’t. That’s all in the past after all!

PH49 4HP               tel: 01855 811168               Glencoecafe