A tourist in the Trossachs

 Saturday 19 September

This weekend couldn't have been more different to the last. Apart from the weather with the lovely sunshine, it's the number of people. I don't think I had appreciated how close Loch Lomond was to Glasgow, as I'm quite sure that the city folk and their sprogs formed the bulk of the day trippers I saw today. (Social distancing - hmmm who am I to judge about extended families and bubbles?) You don't even have to drive here - Balloch has a train station in the middle of the village, and other rural stations serve the tourist hot spots. Signposting is good so attractions are easy to find, and small catering outlets and ice cream vans (which didn't look like they were selling drugs) make hay while the sun shines.

First world problems arising from overnight and my early ablutions in the form of complaints about my room. Not only do I have to walk slightly uphill to the bathroom, but I realised that the mattress/bed also slopes. My shower makes a noise like the scene in Psycho, which is mildly disconcerting. The hairdryer has a very short lead, you have to keep the button pressed down (pointless! pointless!), and it has a nozzle sitting with it in the drawer which is obviously from a completely different hairdryer. On the bright side, I think the TV has righted itself but the wifi on the phone still doesn't work. When I went to breakfast, I was offered coffee and orange juice and a menu for cooked items but also handed a brown paper bag containing muffin, granola bar, yogurt, apple and a can of water. All of which seemed superfluous, most of which I handed back thank you very much, and enjoyed my bacon sandwich.

Anyhoo, I decided to head off to Luss, a supposedly picturesque village on the Loch a few miles further north. I collected a filled roll from the cheery little shop opposite and got in the car, arriving there soon after 10am and not expecting to have to drive around to spot a parking space - which I did, and which I had to pay for - shock horror! It's a pretty enough village with quirky little houses, a couple of obligatory gift shops and a bunch of portaloos, evidently to cope with the hordes of people who'd had the same idea as me. Families were setting up their folding chairs on the shore or following the fairy trail, which forms one of the easy and accessible walks around the village. So many dogs and small children.

I decide to attempt one of the longer walks on the leaflet, but by mistake I turn off  the path to begin climbing Bein Dubh. I thought it was part of a walk, but it wasn't, and it's 642' high and I climbed about two-thirds of that wearing trail sandals, sweating like mad and got a very muddy foot (just the one). I was discussing with a couple who had paused at that point too whether we should attempt the last very steep bit, and then they mentioned car park tickets and I realised I would never get back on time if I attempted the last bit, so I turned around and went back down doing my best mountain goat impersonation. I only fell over once - slowly, on my bum - and was thrilled that I managed not to turn an ankle. I fear my knees may not wake up tomorrow. On the plus side, I got a workout and some colour in my cheeks.

By the time I got back to the village, it was super-busy and I felt a bit unsettled by the number of people and disappointed by the obligatory gift shops with their dearth of fridge magnets. So I decided to take myself off to Helensburgh, as recommended by the nice lady in the tourist office yesterday, and sit by the water, which is Gare Loch. The town itself is unremarkable, but people were making good use of the waterfront, so I found a bench and ate my lunch. 

On the way in I'd spotted a sign for the Hill House, a National Trust property, so I Googled it and when I found out it was designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh I decided to pay a visit. I had wondered if it might be the birthplace of John Logie Baird, the inventor of the telly, who was born and buried in Helensburgh, but it turns out to be a house that Mackintosh designed and built for the Blackie family of publishing fame during the last century.

It's in a swishy residential area on the outskirts of Helensbugh and very close to the Upper station. The house itself is quite plain owing to its cement exterior - but Mackintosh's obsession with design rather than build quality means that the poor quality cement he used over equally poor building materials has led to the house needing major external renovation. So it's covered in a kind of bizarre giant cage, known as The Box, but you can still visit the house and gardens and you get to walk around the box and look out to a great view of the Loch. 

The rooms are wonderfully well-preserved, with a few repro items but with mainly originals. A very well-versed volunteer gave me lots of info and there were too many highlights to mention, but I was particularly taken with the lighting (originally gas, now of course electric), Mrs Blackie's boudoir and the drawing room fireplace. There's a lovely kind of glass-topped dark wood (rosewood?) card table with a decorated cross piece beneath, that was sold by the family to Andy Warhol and bought back again from his estate at a very high price. I had tea and a Rennie Mackintosh Empire biscuit (of course), had a wander round the lovely gardens, full of happy bees and fragrant roses, and bought a Hill House fridge magnet before heading back to Balloch. (I fear I may hit a fridge magnets crisis point when I get home as the volume of my travels and exhibition souvenirs mean you can barely see any white on the fridge freezer any more.)

Regrouped myself back at Balloch House, celebrated walking half a mountain or so with an ice cream from the nice chatty shop across the road, and set off for a walk along the river side of the shore and up to Balloch Castle country park. There's a small but fairly unremarkable castle at its centre, but the park itself is gorgeous and a fabulous community asset - so much space, beautiful woodlands, easy parking, a brilliant place for families to take a picnic and for kids to play in proper play areas. Well done whichever body manages it, but boo that the walled garden wasn't open - the castle I could understand, but I could only see the garden through the bars of a gate...

Back to the hotel to blog, wash my filthy feet (this takes some time) and to eat some very nice beef bourginon for dinner. This place must be a goldmine, but the manager tells me that it's been a bit too busy and that she's concerned the good citizens of Balloch and the surrounding areas aren't following the rules at the moment - she of course has a business to protect too which customers don't always understand. I've seen a lot of big groups today which I can't believe are two households, though of course here kids under 12 don't count which is probably sensible. I think tomorrow I may go a scenic route far from the madding crowd and go to Stirling for a bit of culture, history and maybe light shopping....