Scots, Shocks and a Smoky BBQ Part III

Ok, so we move on to the final part of the trilogy. Phew, I hear you say...

I left you with Mum and Mal singing over the sea to (from) Skye. The ferry crossing to Mallaig was nothing spectacular, just very comfortable and surprisingly quite quick. From there we drove along some very windy roads (stuck behind a caravan for a lot of it too, rather annoying), past some lovely scenery and beautiful Lochs, back towards Fort William. From Fort William we headed across the country to Pitlochry. En route stopped at the House of Bruar, a kind of Scottish Harrods, in that it had expensive cashmere and interesting food halls - had lunch there, which was nice. Not far from there is Blair Atholl, our reason for coming to this area - but by the time we arrived the castle was closed, so we drove into Pitlochry and found a very pleasant B&B for the night, Annslea - the owners were extremely friendly and the breakfast the next morning was excellent. Mum and Mal had a little rest and I wandered off through the town, it has a hydro-electric facility attached to it complete with a fish ladder for spawning salmon (although not the season now for salmon), and some quaint little pubs and shops. We headed out to one of the pubs in town, The Old Mill, for dinner later that night, which was very enjoyable.

The next day, Monday, we headed out to Blair Castle. Mum and Dad tried to go to this castle when they visited the UK in 1982 on the recommendation of Nanny and Grandpa, but the day they went there it was closed. So it was really wonderful for Mum to be able to get the chance to see it this time. As we approached the castle we could hear the soft strains of bagpipes. The castle itself is very impressive, the entrance hall contains a spectacular display of armoury and weapons. The main corridor on the ground floor is decorated with the skulls of stags that roamed the grounds. I think the thing I liked best about the castle was that you got to see artifacts belonging to and pictures of the various Dukes of Atholl's family as they grew up, and the visitors they entertained at the Castle, including Queen Victoria. To see some pics of the interior of the castle, click here.

After our visit to the castle we started on our journey back to Stirling. Things were going merrily, until we went round a bend, and - you guessed it - our old friend the scraping noise was back. And getting worse. So we pressed on to Stirling and found the Kwik Fit - unfortunately it was right on closing time. We decided to stay the night in the Formule 1 at Falkirk and come back the next day. At least with the Formule 1, we knew what we were getting, right? Wrong...

We checked in, made our way to our rooms, and made plans to meet in an hour or so to go for dinner. I had no sooner started to make my bed, when suddenly, a high-pitched, shrieking alarm went off! And we could smell smoke!

So we quickly gathered our valuables, checked the emergency evacuation poster to see where to go, and opened the door - to see the woman from the room opposite, with her door open, smoke thickly streaming out, calling out "It's alright, its just our BBQ". She had one of those disposable bbqs in her room, and was cooking up her dinner. Come on, seriously? A BBQ in a hotel room? What planet is this woman from? And what planet is the hotelier from, that they didn't chuck the woman out? Oy...

apologies for the jumpy video - but it was an emergency fire evacuation...

It was too smoky in our room so we headed out there and then to the pub for dinner. When we got back, the smoke had cleared and everything had calmed down, which was a relief. I tell you, there's nowt like the Formule 1's for a bit of excitement and action...

Tuesday. On the homeward stretch now. Oh hang on, no, we have to go and get the shocks sorted out. So Mum and I head back to Stirling real early to get the car fixed. Only, when the bloke has a look at it, he says the shocks don't need doing at all. I asked if the bit of tyre rubber had fallen out, thus causing the scraping noise again. No, its' still there - but there's a hole in it. His solution is to remove the bar that the muffler was scraping against. Ok. Oh, and as we're there, there's a few chips in the windscreen - so an hour and £25 later, we have no scraping noise and no chips in our windscreen. We headed back to get Mal and then basically hit the motorway for the day, aiming for Liverpool.

Why Liverpool? Well, its roughly a couple of hours from London, so our last day's drive shouldn't be too stressful, has a Formule 1 there - oh and my brother in law is mad about the football club and would like a jersey, and Beck would like a hat, oh and rompersuit for Marcella... so off we go.

Mal wasn't too well and decided to skip the Formule 1 this time and stayed at the hotel next door, where we had dinner that night.

Wednesday - our last day. Mum met Mal for breakfast at Mal's hotel, whilst I hoofed it into the city centre looking for the jersey and other Liverpool FC items for Beck. Do you think I could find a jersey that would fit Demo? Not in the colour he wanted - went to about 8 shops and finally found one for him. Phew. You be the judge of how it fits - Beck sent me this pic.

So that's pretty much it. After I got the jersey we basically hit the motorway back to London after a really lovely holiday. No more Scots, no more shocks, and certainly no more indoor smoky BBQs...

Scots, Shocks and a Smoky BBQ Part II

So we woke up Sunday morning to the glorious smells of breakfast cooking - that's what I love about staying in B&B's - I've never yet had a bad breakfast in a B&B and again, the one at Strathgorm did not disappoint. It's interesting, being in Scotland, you're not offered a full English breakfast, but a full Scottish. Now to my mind, I couldn't really tell the difference between the two because, although at first observation, the obvious difference seemed to be the exclusion of baked beans (hallelujah for that!) and the inclusion of black pudding, however I do seem to recall once having black pudding served during an English breakfast somewhere on the South English coast. So I'm not sure that having black pudding included is enough to constitute calling it a "full Scottish breakfast", especially as you can find variations of this in many European countries - blotwurst in Germany, boudin noir in France... Hmm. Apologies to the Scottish nation for bursting your bubble. Although I will let you have your haggis. In fact, you can keep it...

Actually it was very interesting observing the Scots. I don't know that I can get my head around the fact that if you're British, it doesn't necessarily mean you're English - and I think if I was in the position of the Scots, I would be like them, doing all I could to make sure people knew there was a difference. To illustrate this, I quote to you a story I read in a souvenir shop at Armadale, Skye. The story was that God went missing for six days, and archangel Michael found Him resting on the seventh day. He asked God where He had been, and in answer, God proudly showed him His latest creation - Earth. God explained that the Earth would be a great place of people and balance.

"Balance and peoples?" inquired Michael, confused.

God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. "For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, but cold and harsh, while southern Europe is going to be poor, but sunny and pleasant. I have made some lands abundant in water and other lands parched deserts. This one will be extremely hot whilst this one will be very cold and covered in ice."

The Archangel, impressed by God's work, then pointed to a country and said, "What's that one?""Ah," said God. "Scotland -- the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful beaches, streams, hills, and forests. The people from Scotland are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent and humorous and they are going to be found travelling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking and high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats and carriers of peace."
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration but then proclaimed, "What about balance, God? You said there would be balance!"

God replied wisely, "Wait until you see who their neighbours are”.

Hehehe...

Anyway, we set off after breakfast to do a bit of a drive around Skye before taking the ferry back to the mainland from Armadale. Even though this was the first day of overcast weather, you could still really appreciate the beauty of the Island. Actually, I hadn't realised it was as large as it was, and if we'd had more time we could have ventured north and seen sights and places relating to Flora Macdonald and Bonnie Prince Charlie, but alas, we hadn't the time.

Didn't stop Mum and Mal though from giving us public vocal renditions of the "Skye Boat Song" on the ferry crossing back to Mallaig...much to my chagrin...

Scots, Shocks and a Smoky BBQ Part I

Well we headed off on the Tuesday of the Easter break for our Scottish jaunt (jig?).... all 4 of us - Mum, Mal, Me - and - Ruby! (the car)...

On the first day we managed to get as far as Newcastle, spent the night there at a Formule 1. The Formule 1's in England are a step up from their French counterparts in that they actually have sinks in the wc's so you don't have to go back to your room to wash your hands (yay)... There was a Toby Carvery next door, these pubs are awesome, you get a generous serving of meat and then its all you can eat vegies and (most importantly) yorkshire puddings... yum!

The bad thing about the Newcastle Formule 1, like the one in Lille, was that at about 2am some dipstick starts banging on our door. The banging eventually stopped, but by that point I was wide awake, so I got up for the loo, when the next thing I know, I run into the bloke who had been knocking. He was completely off his head, thought our room was the managers room, and kept going on about trying to find his mobile phone. I certainly gave him a piece of my mind!

The next day we continued north to Falkirk, via Hadrian's Wall. Mal, intrepid explorer that she is, walked the wall... well, she walked the bit at Chester's Fort.

It was very interesting there, they have a great little museum of artifacts and Roman remains that they've discovered in the area, plus a model of what the fort would have looked like.

After our visit to Chester's, we continued on north to Scotland, bypassing Glasgow, and saw signs for a more scenic route to Edinburgh, which we took (A701 - very beautiful scenery). This brought us to a great little woollen mill (which actually was a big shop, rather than an actual working mill) in Moffat. Only meant to stop for a few minutes, but there were so many cute things to see (especially things that would fit my niece Marcella) that we were there for a while. Fortunately the cute things stayed on the shelf and the purse stayed in the pocket.... Finally made it to Edinburgh, via some very beautiful scenery. I can safely say (about Edinburgh) that I don't want to go back there. I've been before, and we were really only popping in, rather than doing a full day sight-seeing, but do you think we could find a single road sign that told us how to get to the Castle (let alone park anywhere near the Castle)? No, sir-ee, we did not. And after we finally made it to the rough vicinity of the castle (which by this point was closed as it was coming on for 5pm after driving aimlessly around Edinburgh), had our coffee and a look around, do you think we could find a sign that would lead us to the correct road out of there? Yeah, right.

So we did more aimless driving, getting more and more frustrated - poor Mum and Mal, I didn't envy them as they both had maps and were doing a fantastic job of trying to navigate - but where there are no road signs to where we want to go, this is pretty tricky. We ended up back in the centre of Edinburgh about 3 times, and luckily on the last time managed to see the right sign (by chance, and by looking for it in the rear view mirror) and made it eventually to Falkirk, where we stayed at the Formule 1 there. This time we requested a "do not disturb" sign for the door. Obviously did the trick too, as we managed to avoid any disturbances.

Thursday: we headed off via the scenic route (taking in Stirling Castle, complete with the free tour around the castle - our guide was absolutely excellent) to Tarbert, where we would spend the night in a Castle. We seemed to be driving for ages, but it was well worth it, we had some beautiful views of Loch Lomond and Loch Fyne enroute. Had to hop out of the car a bit for a bit of a paddle in the Loch, and Mal treated us to a demonstration of her stone skimming technique.

Made it to the Stonefield Castle Hotel, this was a gorgeous castle by the side of Loch Fyne. The interior is really nicely decorated and the grounds are beautiful - and it was reasonably priced which was good. The dining room overlooks the lake, gorgeous views, which we were able to enjoy both at dinner that evening and breakfast the next day. I have to say I really liked this place - the grounds were lovely and I enjoyed a couple of nice little wanders around them.

Friday: we decided to have a bit of a rest day. We'd enjoyed the previous evening so much that we decided to stay an extra night in the castle, and then spend the day driving around the peninsula. This, however, was the start of some interesting car issues. See, yesterday I went for a bit of a walk around the grounds and found this cute little bridge over a stream leading down to the Loch. So as we headed off on our drive, I took a detour to show Mum and Mal the bridge - which caused us to go over a bit of a bump. This I negotiated badly, smacking the underside of the car, and setting off a series of strange scraping and dragging like noises as we drove along the windy roads. Great. So we headed into Campelltown Loch, and tried to go to a mechanic there. Do you think we could find one who would have a look at the problem? Unusually these blokes were not the friendly Scots we had encountered throughout our travels, no, these blokes were a bit rude actually and wouldn't even take a quick look. They kept telling us to come back later (or tomorrow), but there is NOTHING TO DO IN CAMPBELLTOWN LOCH!!!! Finally found an ATS and the dude had a bit of a look, reckoned there was nothing wrong, and bent the exhaust down a bit. Drove off, no noise - yay - went round a bend - alas the noise returned. No more mechanics enroute to Stonefield though, so couldn't do anything about it. Went for dinner in a pub in Tarbert - walked out of the pub because the landlord was so rude he couldn't even manage to remember to take our order - found another pub and had a quiet dinner. Except that at that pub, we asked for the bill, the barman forgot to get it and when he finally did, he forgot to include our dessert and drinks. Cheap meal for us, then!

Saturday: Set off with no real plan today other than get as far as Fort William and hope someone can fix the noise in the car. Made it as far as Oban and just happened to see a Kwik Fit. The guy there was sooo nice, he drove around in the car to hear the noise and figure out what was wrong. Put the car up on the ramp, couldn't do anything to change the position of the exhaust but put a piece of tyre rubber in to stop the noise, and then he had a look at the suspension, which he also said was clunky. Now this is where the shocks come in. I had had the shocks replaced the other week, but the blighters had only replaced the drivers side ones - although apparently you're supposed to replace both shocks, not just one. So the Oban dude reckoned that the passenger side might be the reason for another noise - yet they didn't have those shocks in stock (least that's what I thought he said, he had such a broad Scottish brogue. He said it should be ok for the rest of our journey, but gave us the number of Kwik Fit in Stirling because he said that if we made it there we should still get the shocks fixed for he journey back to London. Anyway, his solution for the scraping noise was to stick a bit of tyre rubber in between the muffler and some bar on the underside of the car. As the car sounded good, (AND he didn't charge anything for it) we were pretty happy and pressed on, past more breathtaking scenery, to Eilean Donan castle, dubbed Scotlands most Romantic castle.

We got there just before closing time - so we were lucky to be able to go in for a quick visit. This was very interesting, the castle is owned by the MacRae clan, and what I really liked about it was that inside the castle, there were lots of family photographs of different generations of the family, which made it feel a little more homey, somehow.

The castle is on the main road to Kyle of Lochalsh, and from there its a hop, skip and jump to Skye, across the bridge. We decided, after some deliberation, to take the plunge and go speed bonny Ruby, like a bird on the wing... over the sea to Skye... where we found a wonderful B&B for the night.

Watched the sun set over Skye...

Mum tries haggis....

Aaaggghh, computers (or should that be, aaagghhh, RM!)

Hi all

Just to say, no, I haven't dropped off the planet, I am still here. I haven't been able to be blogging much because of - shock, horror - computer problems.

The problem is that I don't actually own my own laptop at home, I just use the one assigned to me for work. This would be fine if they actually assigned me one that works, but the one I've got at the moment won't allow me to log on to blogger, or to the bank, or to practically anything.

Fortunately I can still read email but that's about it...

I can log on at work but I'm sure they have some way of checking which websites I've been on, so I don't want to do that - or blogger will become yet another website that they block. Its ridiculous, everything is blocked at work, particularly any music sites - you try being a music teacher and not being able to access any music sites - and then being given a rubbish laptop that won't allow you access at home... its a joke.

I have got some things to put on here but they're not finished yet, look out for them in the next few days - stuff about our Scottish adventure and other things...

In the meantime, see you when I can...

An Easter Sunday at Westminster Abbey

Ok, I know, I've been a bit slack about updating the blog. If the truth be known, we weren't able to get to an internet cafe when travelling around Scotland, and once we were back, it was straight back to school, so I've been a bit busy. Couple that with the fact that the laptop I've currently been assigned from school is really rubbish... you get the picture.

Anyway.

On Easter Sunday, just before we embarked upon our Scottish adventure, Mum and I decided to attend the services at Westminster Abbey. Remembering my experience a few Christmases back, when Beck, Dem and I went to a Christmas service at the Abbey, and had to queue for some time, I thought we should try to get there a bit earlier to be sure of a seat near the front (being a choral conductor I like to be able to watch other conductors with their choirs).

The service started at 1030 and I thought if we made it there by 0900 or so we should be able to secure a good position. Fortunately there was no traffic and the good ole 159 bus had us there well and truly on time - we were able to get very good seats at the service.

The mass was really very good, I quite enjoyed the choir although to be fair I felt the boys needed a bit more oomph to do Victoria's setting real justice (Tomas Luis de Victora Missa pro victoria), particularly in the Gloria. The choir was accompanied by His Majesty's Sagbutts and Cornetts, who were very good - actually it was just lovely to hear period instruments accompanying the singing, very atmospheric. And the organist was having a bit of a ripper day too - thought the bloke was going to take off at the end, during Durufle's transcription of Tournemire's Choral-Improvisation sur le Victimae Paschali - although surprisingly he didn't follow with the Anglican tradition of OTT improvs during the last verse of the hymns (Bobby Boughen would be disappointed, hey Dad).

Anyway, after such an uplifting experience, what to do next? Ah, why not a Sunday roast at the Woodman... so we had a very nice lunch in one of our favourite pubs in Carshalton, even managed to persuade them to put on the cricket. I must admit I was a little surprised they didn't already have it on, as England were playing - although they were playing Australia, so maybe the landlord figured the result was inevitable, why watch?

All in all it was a very pleasant day.

A Lille Break

Believe it or not, owning a car in London is a good thing.

Sure, there are the down sides - the rego is due but you need a new MOT, oh and a service, and oh sorry Madam, you need new shocks, and a wishbone - or it catches fire when you are driving to work (after having had it "repaired" - yes people, that really DID happen to me). But despite all this, it gives you the freedom to escape the city for the countryside at every available opportunity, or, for the slightly more adventurous, (and for not a lot of money), the chance to pop over to France for the day / weekend on the Channel Tunnel.

So, being the Easter weekend, that's exactly what Mal, Mum and I did. We choofed off to Lille for the weekend.

For those who don't know what a journey on the Channel Tunnel entails - basically you drive your car on to a huge train which then makes the journey through the tunnel under the Channel, taking about 30 minutes to cross. The crossing was pretty smooth, except for the fact that some burke had left the heating on in the train (it was 20 degrees outside - a warm spring day for England) and we were melting by the time we arrived.

We headed off towards Lille and decided to make a short stop in Dunkerque, encountering rather a lot of motor homes parked overlooking the beach. Pretty bleak outlook (and no, I don't mean Mum and Mal! hehehe). To each their own, I guess. So we pressed on to Lille...

Mum and Mal at Dunkerque

I have never been to Lille before nor have I ever wanted to go, but actually, it is a real pretty little city. It was the European capital of culture (or something like this) in 2004 and I guess you can sort of see why, it has some very beautiful architecture and there are heaps of things to do /see there. Plus the food is pretty good, too (as my hips will attest!). If you only have a limited amount of time in Lille, as we did, then my recommendation is to do a mini-bus tour for €9.50, bookable from the tourist information centre in the Palais Rihour. This tour lasts about an hour and is an audio visual experience so you get to see what the buildings look like inside without having to leave your seat (or pay more for the experience).

In order to keep the weekend costs down, we decided to fall back on our old favourite, Formule 1, for accommodation. This hotel chain was introduced to me by my good friend Chris a few years back when he was visiting Paris with his mate Sam for a gaming tournament. Its good, cheap accommodation - the rooms are all exactly the same, no variation (at least that I've seen) from country to country - they appear to be pre-fabricated capsules. For not much more than the cost of a dormitory room in a hostel, you get a room to yourself with a double bed, bunk bed, sink and TV (plus a couple of power points and a desk). You don't have any keys to worry about, as there is a 6 digit code for you to forget which allows you access to your room (you should have seen it a little while back when we did the Normandie beaches, Belgium and Amsterdam and stayed in these hotels - a new code every night - didn't know whether we were coming or going...).

The amenities are located outside of the room and "self-clean" automatically when you leave them. The only problem with the toilets is that there is no basin to wash your hands after you do your business - which means that every single person who uses the facilities has to touch the door handle with their manky hands afterwards to leave the cubicle, then touch the minging door handle (and key code pad) to the rooms - BEFORE washing their hands in their rooms... and I don't know if the cleaning crew for the hotel actually clean the door handles... hm. Food for thought.

The only other thing I can find fault with in the Formule 1's is that they are usually located on the outskirts of the town and so you really do need a car to get there. That's ok, but for a couple of things. First, the directions to the hotel on the website and in the booklet are only provided in the language of the country the hotel is in. Therefore, if you are staying in a Formule 1 in France, the directions are in French. Now I never studied any French at school, and the extent of my French is basically anything to do with musical terms (which is why I can understand some road signs e.g. cedez le passage and know my gauche from my droit), or ask for the bill. So you try deciphering:

Par autoroute de Paris, Calais, Dunkerque, Lille : suivre dir. Roubaix/ Tourcoing-Gent (A22), sortie 17 ( Halluin / Tourcoing) après le centre commercial Auchan. Dans la sortie 17 prendre à gauche en direction de Halluin/ Douane, continuer tout droit jusqu' au 2ème rond-point. F1 au 2e rond-point sur le parking du restaurant Buffalo.

Que?

Throw into that the fact that highways in France (and indeed much of Europe) often have more than one name - I think due to the EU thing. So you can be on the E42, which is also the A25, and is also called the N225. At one point I saw 4 names for the same road! Suffice to say we had more than our fair share of trouble trying to find the hotel...

But it was a brilliant weekend after all... roll on Scotland next week...

Oh, and I can recommend a cute little pub in Stanford North just off the M20 en route from London to Folkestone, called "The Drum Inn". Excellent food, excellent prices, and great history - the pub was built in 1708 and has a whole gory history with smugglers, night watchmen and the military...

A Great British Tradition

One of the things I really like about England is a traditional Sunday roast in a quaint little pub.

Today Mal, Ken, Mum and I headed off to the Old Plough, Cobham, for Sunday lunch. The food at this place is awesome! The portions are absolutely huge, atmosphere very nice, and the surroundings very pretty. We even encountered a cottage with a thatched roof on the way! But the big plus for this place, at least for Dad when he visited with Mum last year, is that it is one of the few places in the UK which takes Bartercard.

So we had a very nice lunch, courtesy of Bartercard - thanks, Dad, this one's on you...

Mum's the word...

Last Saturday I had a very early start at Heathrow as Mum arrived from Singapore with Aunty Mal. She needed to stay awake all day so I dragged her up to the Strand for my weekly visit with Jessops.

On Sunday we headed off to the Army and then went with the Corps to see Amazing Grace, the movie about William Wilberforce, at Croydon Grants cinema. The film was absolutely excellent, thoroughly enjoyed it.

Then on Tuesday we went out for coffee after school and ended up in Clapham, happening upon Clapham Holy Trinity church, where Wilberforce worshipped.

The rest of the week went without event, then on Friday night, in honour of Pommy mother's day a few weeks back, I decided (as has become a bit of a tradition with me and Mum) to take Mum to the theatre as her mother's day gift. We debated upon a few different plays, and then finally decided to see Dame Maggie Smith in "The Lady from Dubuque".

I have to say I still have no idea what that play was about. I think the playwright, Edward Albee, just wrote down a bunch of words, then rustled up a couple of people to say them. Mum and I both left the theatre scratching our heads...

The only saving grace of the play was Maggie Smith, who, as Mum quipped, "could act her way out of a shoebox". And the dude who played Oscar was pretty good - just as well, as everyone else was, to be frank, pretty ordinary.

Maybe we'd have been better off seeing Jessica Lange in "The Glass Menagerie" instead...

The Saga of the Mobile Phone

I am obviously destined not to have a working mobile phone.

For some time now, I have had problems with my mobile phone. It all started about a year ago, when I moved to Streatham, to a room with hardwood floor boards. One day my phone rang, but it was on vibrate, so it vibrated fair off my bedside table and CRASH! onto the floor. Never worked the same again.

So my mate Nic loaned me a phone. Much appreciated. However I don't like flip phones, and I really liked my little Ericsson T66 - so I bought another one second hand on ebay. Seriously, this phone is the smallest mobile you'll see. Alas, it kept powering down mid phone call - and then one day, it too, took a suicide leap off my bedside table. Bye bye phone.

I discovered a great little website called www.mobdeals.com where you can get a free phone, plus free line rental. So, I ordered a Sony Ericsson K610 - but each company I ordered from when push came to shove, did not have the phone I wanted. Or the ability to port my T-Mobile pay as you go number to the new network.

Finally I found a company that did, www.mobilerainbow.co.uk so I go ahead with the phone, eventually it arrives - and it keeps powering down mid call. I've sent it back, but I don't hold much hope that I'll get a working phone.

Alas.

Photo saga update

Hi everyone, sorry I've been offline for a bit. Been a bit busy.

So the latest on the Jessops photo saga. When I left you, Jessops had lost one roll of negatives.

Well they can't find them. At all. So now they asked me to bring the dud CD in so they can produce negatives off it and make new prints. I reminded them that the images on the dud CD are rubbish because they were developed poorly. "That's no problem," they say, "we'll just correct them". Well I don't know how they will, I tried fixing them in photoshop and there's no way you can make a badly pixelated image into a good one.

Good luck to them. They better pay me compensation after all this. Or at least reimburse my bus fare...