A Stirling effort

 Sunday 20 September

The TV was working ok last night, but typically there was nothing on that I wanted to watch - thank goodness for iPlayer! The day dawned cloudy and stayed murky for most of the day, with a little watery sun in late afternoon, so not the best day for pics, especially during my post-breakfast walk when it was quite misty, with cobwebs of dew still on the ferns and vegetation in the forest. 

I headed along the shore walk and up through the woods that skirt the Balloch Country Park into the Faerie Glen, where I met with a babbling brook and a mini waterfall. Every now and again I came across a dog and a walker (always in that order), but it was very quiet. I followed the marked trail up to Whinny Hill woods, where the going got a bit tougher and the comfortable ash track petered out into mud - and eventually watery marsh, to my cost, or rather to the cost of my walking shoes and socks. 

The tourist map of the trail was way out of scale (though to be fair I missed the icon showing the marsh) and although a circular route it was quite long - 8 miles in fact, though I'd estimated it to be about half that. I walked for over two and a half hours and at one point did feel a little panic as the trail markers disappeared and I found myself in a part of the wood with multiple narrow trails, but I reasoned with myself that I had to keep going downhill towards Loch Lomond and all would be well! It was a really good walk though - a very solitary one for the most part. Thankfully my hotel was at the end of it, so I went to my room and recuperated a bit before heading out again.

By this time my old bones were creaking a bit, so I got in the car and drove off towards Stirling so that I'd see a different bit of the Trossachs. I swung by the Port of Monteith (sadly the promised priory was closed) and had a quick pitstop in Callendar which is quite a busy little town on a small body of water. The approach of a seagull led to me abandoning my very disappointing salmon sandwich, and I drove on to Stirling.

Stirling is very grey and the centre is mainly one big hill with the castle at the top. The new town centre is pretty much like any other - lots of shops were closed, and I'm not sure whether that was Covid or Sunday-related. The much-lauded Victoria arcade was pretty but almost completely closed, providing only a thoroughfare from one street to another - this very weird niche chocolate shoe shop  wasn't available for closer inspection either.

I had coffee and cake at The Burgh coffee house at the foot of Baker Street, the incline of which encouraged lots of pre-pubescent boys to skateboard or scoot down its length - fortunately they appeared to be quite adept at avoiding pedestrians but it would probably have scared your granny. I walked up through the old town which has old town charm though again mainly closed, including the Albany lodgings, though I could have visited the jail if I'd felt so inclined. 

The castle square has fine views of the surrounding area and you can see right across to the William Wallace monument. I toyed with the idea of visiting it but realised that it would be more uphill walking and really wasn't sure my poor old pins could stand the strain! I couldn't really get a decent photo of the castle itself as it faces away from the square - I'd already decided against visiting as I hadn't really left enough time. A momentary diversion was a handsome coach driver in a kilt - you can just see his leg at the front of the bus in this pic, but I was treated to a skirt-swishing full view as he dutifully disinfected touchable parts of his bus.

I headed back down to the new town and the car park and set off for Balloch via a different route alongside Loch Venachar and through Aberfoyle - very winding but very pretty. I enjoyed driving the Golf once I got used to the brakes. By the time I got back to Balloch it was almost 6pm and most of the day trippers had gone home. It's a busy place and although it's inevitably somewhat commercialised, it's nicely done and whether you're hale and hearty or not, it's a great and very pretty place to walk. 

The hotel is really more of an inn with rooms, and although I had some quibbles over the facilities, the staff were friendly and the food was good. I enoyed a roast turkey dinner and then went back to my room to pack with a last holiday glass of wine.

I'm writing this on the train going home. (I've just realised I've written it totally in the past tense, whereas other blog entries have been in the present - I guess because usually written on the same day.) I'm looking forward to being there, and feel like I've been away ages. I've driven over 700 miles these past two weeks. It's been a lovely break with some stunning scenery and places to remember and I'm lucky to have been able to get away. 

Travelling solo is quite freeing but I do miss company over a drink and an evening meal, and the current restrictions don't necessarily make it easy to strike up conversations with strangers. Also - doing all the driving, hauling luggage unaided, making all the decisions and doing all the thinking is quite tiring! I'm glad I've experienced the Hebrides, though am not sure I'd return - it's probably a little too culturally-bereft for me (though Covid has probably put paid to a number of opportunities I would normally have had), and with such soggy weather more likely than not, I'd rather return to the Trossachs I think, taking a closer look at Glasgow again. See you again next year Scotland - at the Edinburgh Fringe I hope. 

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....