In Campbeltown Once More
Ian Forshaw
Wednesday May 10th
A very warm, busy day indeed. Helen and I went off into Peterborough first thing to buy provisions for the journey. After some lunch, we set to packing the suitcases. We had been following the forecasts and expected warm – although not necessarily dry – weather. We packed accordingly. My case, of course, was smaller than Helen’s by a cubic foot, or two, but we managed to fill them both anyway. We ran through our tick-list and soon suitcases, rucksacks, boots and bags were settled downstairs, ready for loading the next morning. After a long soak in the bath and a relax in front of the television, it was early to bed. Scotland beckoned.
Thursday May 11th
I was up bright and early around 06.00 and, after bringing Helen a light breakfast in bed, I loaded up the car. We’d done this so many times before that everything seemed to fall into it’s own allotted place. At 07.10, with the skies a clear blue, and the promise of a fine day ahead, we set off for the long drive to Callander, our first destination on this particular holiday. Helen took the wheel first, and I settled back to read the morning papers. It was an uneventful drive; up the A1, 150 miles to Scotch Corner where we stopped for a cup of tea. I took over the driving and on we went, across country on the A66 to Penrith where we picked up the M6 motorway, past Carlisle. Soon we were crossing the border at Gretna Green on to the A74, the M74 and, at around 12.30, we joined the M8 motorway coming into Glasgow. Round the ring road we went until we reached the Erskine Bridge across the River Clyde. The views from the bridge were tremendous. On the other side we joined the A82 – the Great Western Road. We had decided to stop at the Lomond Factory Outlet shopping centre at Alexandria, to see if we could pick up any bargains. We did. Both of us bought some outdoor clothing. After a wander around the many shops, we again set off for Callander. We drove along the A81 towards Aberfoyle and the Trossachs, among some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. Through Aberfoyle we went, and up the long hill on the other side, past the David Marshall Lodge in the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, to a parking viewpoint near the top. (We were beckoned in to the side while passing by a bagpiper in full Highland regalia. He must have been hot!)
It was a perfect day: we had a backdrop of sweet-smelling pines from which came the sounds of the wild birds and, now and then, the call of a cuckoo. The fragrance of the wildflowers was drifted to us on a gentle breeze which sussurated softly through the trees but, oddly, even with all that, there was a sense of stillness, and peace. We ate our lunch, not speaking to each other, but just enjoying the sense of being. As if on some unearthly cue, the sound of the ‘pipes floated up to us from the hard-working piper in the tourist car park far below us. We noted that, five minutes after a coach party went past, the music would appear and, ten minutes later, die away. We could tell when a bus did or did not stop, and for how long, for there would be a burst of ‘Scotland the Brave’ which quickly cut off if the coach went on by. Our piper didn’t play for the fun of it – it was strictly business.
Lunch over, we decided to get going and make for our destination. Although I’ve previously said it was Callander, it was, in fact, a wee place called Kilmahog, a half mile outside Callander. But first we backtracked along the road to the David Marshall Lodge to have a look around the shop, and to take in the magnificent views from outside of the Lodge itself. Helen and I had seen that vista in all its Autumn glory a few years back, and we were glad to refresh our memories and also to partake of its Spring beauty. Back on the road, then, along the Trossachs Trail, ( a new bit of Tourist Board signposting), along a twisty, hilly road – not for the faint-hearted - until, finally, we arrived at Kilmahog, and Bridge End Cottage, which was to be our base for the next couple of days. After a warm welcome by Diana Hopper, the owner, and a noisy (but friendly) welcome by her Border Collie, we unloaded the car, unpacked a few necessities and, after a wash and freshen-up, we took off for a wander around Callander town. My Helen loves the place, and the area. It is a typical Scottish small town with the one Main Street. It is, also, a hub for visitors to the Trossachs. After our stroll, we drove back, past Kilmahog and along the Trossachs Trail to the shores of Loch Venachar, where we had a parking spot by the shore to ourselves. The sun, by this time, was lowering in the sky and the breeze across the loch was quite stiff, and quite cold. We dug out the last of the chicken sandwiches, and a couple of cold drinks and, having put our coats on and zipped them well up, sat ourselves down at a picnic bench beside the car. As we ate cheeky little Redstarts were landing on the table top only a foot or two away from us, looking for crumbs, which, for their cheek, they got! They sure knew how to handle us! The wind, though, got a little too much to bear and we retired to the car. Again we sat wrapped in our own thoughts, watching the shadows grow longer across the loch. It seemed to me that the forest on the far bank was very mysterious with its deep, green gloom. We sat there until around 21.30, and then headed back to Bridgend Cottage, and bed. It had been a grand day.
Friday May 12th
The previous day, upon arrival at Bridgend, Helen and I had noted that the River Leny ran past just below our window, and a couple of yards from the back door of the cottage. The place itself was double-glazed and so we heard only a murmur from the river but, when we awoke that morning, we arose, opened the window, and let the full sound of the country into our room. The sky was blue and the view from the room was excellent – away across to the other side of the Leny and, to our right, the picturesque road bridge that gave the cottage its name. After a shower, we were ready for breakfast. Now, Scottish breakfasts are a thing of beauty and a joy to behold, and ours was no exception. Diana laid on one of the finest breakfasts that I have ever enjoyed. I could see that Helen was a tad over-awed by the spectacle, as she is not a big eater, but we set-to with gusto, and managed to clear our plates. Phew!
We had set aside Friday to visit a Forshaw relation in the village of Luncarty, near Perth. It was a ninety-minute drive up the A9 so off we went, with Helen driving. To reach the A9 we drove through some beautiful little villages, all of which were brightly bedecked with flowers. Due in no small part to my excellent map-reading skills (!), we arrived, on schedule at Isla Road, Luncarty, where Rhona waited to greet us. Although we had spoken to Rhona on the telephone, and sent a wee thing up to Margaret occasionally, we had not met for nearly two years, and yet, as soon as we came together on the steps of Isla Road, it was as if no time had passed at all. After hugs all round, we repaired to Rhona's front room where we proceeded to catch up on all the news. We decided to take a drive across to Crieff for lunch, and set off around 1 o’clock. Crieff itself is quite a small place but, just outside the town, there is a range of units which comprise shops dedicated to Pottery, Stuart Crystal, Florists and a beautiful Restaurant. We had a wander around the craft shops and, in our guise as McTouristas, H and I bought a few bits here and there. My Helen has a small collection of Stuart Crystal pieces, and she added to that by buying a small dish. She informs me that it’s part of their 'Cascade' collection. After a good browse around, we settled ourselves in to the restaurant for lunch. After another chinwag, we set off back to Luncarty in time to meet Rhona’s 6-year-old daughter Margaret, from school. At first, Margaret was a little shy, but she soon came round to us, and talked away. Rhona asked if we’d like to take a walk up to Battleby Park – not far from her house – and we jumped at the chance. So, Rhona, Margaret, with her beautiful sun-hat, Helen and I set off for a late afternoon walk. Battleby Park was really nice. All kinds of flowers were out there. On the way into the Park, we met Margaret’s friend Laurie and her Mum. We were introduced to Laurie’s sister, Annie – not more that two years old – and it struck us as nice that – taking both names together – they were Annie Laurie! Laurie’s mum – who lived next to the Park – agreed that we could take Laurie with us on our tour. There were children’s play areas where Margaret and her friend showed off a little, while Rhona, Helen and I could have a good yarn. All too soon it was time to head back to Rhona’s house. Her husband Alistair, a Perth and Kinross Countryside Ranger, was due in from work, and we wanted to be there to greet him. Alistair is a very quiet, unassuming man, who has – in my opinion- an unsurpassed knowledge of the countryside. He is extremely well read, and a great conversationalist. Rhona served up a magnificent repast of Salmon, vegetables and new potatoes, followed by a delicious concoction of fresh fruit and ice-cream. After dinner we sat, replete, gassing away until Helen and I had to make our farewells, and head back for Bridgend Cottage. We vowed that it wouldn’t be so long until we met Rhona, Alistair and wee Margaret again.
More in September
Page 2: A History of the Gilchrists
Page 3: In Campbeltown Once More.
Page 4: The Lowland Church of Campbeltown from its Foundation in 1654 till the Disruption. - Part Two
Page 5: Heather McFarlane's Page - Some Thoughts by e-mail & snailmail
Page 6: Books Received, in Brief
Page 7: Crarae Garden (Could be slow loading)
Page 8: By Hill and Shore - Part One