Monthly Archives: July 2013

This is the post I hate writing the most.  It is inevitable that all things must come to an end but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.  Today was a fairly subdued day – everyone enjoyed a long lie, or as long as we could sleep which for me was all of 9 a.m.   Other sunburned and stiff muscled family members joined the land of the living at various stages of the morning, or in some cases early afternoon.  Bacon rolls, coffee, and the Sunday paper read in the sunshine were the order of the first part of the day.  It was another amazingly beautiful, sunny day today and we chalked up the 10^th day in a row with sunshine and not a single drop of rain since we arrived in Scotland.

After running a few errands, and futilely trying to check in online for our flight  – don’t get me started on how much I hate USAirways – it was time for a walk along the beach.  For the first time this weekend, we ventured the few blocks to the shore and walked along the sands basking in the cool breezes and warm sunshine.  Then it was back to the house for another spectacular barbeque ala Stephen:  ribs, fish, potato salad, cole slaw, salad, roasted vegetables, and baked tomatoes.  Absolutely fabulous – but noticeably lacking in alcohol (even though no one would admit they were actually hung over… suspicious?)

And it was time to take our leave and head for the airport where we turned in the car and got settled in our rooms at the airport Holiday Inn.  A last drink in the bar with our children – bought by them as a matter of fact – and it was time to call it a day. Tomorrow we fly home and face reality without Irn Bru, Bellhaven’s Best, fish and chips, flying saucers, and spending time with dearly loved family.

Steps:  13, 819 or 6.2 miles (mostly done by sore muscles!)

A little history is in order first.  We have been visiting family in Scotland every odd numbered year for two decades or so.  Many of those stops have included a day or two with my family on the west coast -usually we annoy the wonderful Bargh family and have an amazing time.  Most visits start with a barbeque and much liquid refreshment the first evening and by the time we are headed to bed, we have made plans to go to Arran the next day and climb Goat Fell, the highest peak on the island at 2866 feet.  To date, it has always been “too cloudy” (either outside or in our heads) to make such a trek. This year, it actually happened.  And this is the story.

We actually set alarms and got up to them.  Seven of us (Andrew had to work and Amy was at T in the Park) got showered, fed, and rushed out the door to head to Ardrossan for the 9:45 am ferry to Arran.  We all had fairly quick breakfasts (bowl of cereal or a danish) except for Stephen who poached some eggs and ate properly.  Then the mad scramble to make some rolls to have lunch at the top of the mountain.  Needless to say, we left late and scrambled and hurried to make it to the ferry on time.  Meanwhile, our hire car was registering zero fuel.  Not just that the light was on but that the tank was empty.  We had no idea if we would make it to the ferry at all let alone on time.  But away we sped.

We got there just in time to be the last people they allowed in the queue to buy tickets for the ferry.  This in itself is significant because apparently, there is NEVER a queue to buy tickets for the ferry so the fact that there were two dozen people in line for tickets was an indicator that we were not the only ones who came up with this marvelous plan. Of course, when I got to the counter to buy 4 day return tickets, the machine ran out of ticket forms after two tickets got printed.  Then in trying to print the final two, the machine started freaking out and spitting out blank ticket after blank ticket.  It took what seemed an eternity to get it sorted and we finally were the (absolute last) people to board.

The ferry crossing takes about an hour and although we had beautiful sunshine, the breeze off the water was very cool.  Luckily we were all prepared with our shorts and fleeces! We disembarked at the dock in Broddick and began the walk along the shore to the foot of the mountain.  Quick stop at the coop for chocolates and crisps and bottles of water to go with our rolls and we were off.

Goat Fell is the highest point on Arran and we knew it would take about 2 hours to get to the top – which would be the craggy high point shrouded in clouds in the photo.  For about half an hour, it was a steady climb through forest where biting flies nearly drove us mad!  After that, we broke into more open, craggy terrain and while there was the occasional nasty fly, they weren’t nearly as annoying.

And so we climbed, and climbed, and climbed.  And so did dozens of other folks who had come up with the same plan for spending the day in the sun!  There were veritable traffic jams on the trail (Cue joke:  It was busier than Sauciehall Street on a Saturday!) The last half hour was a mad scramble over rock and we were sweating profusely working our way to the top but we eventually succeeded.

And then we were at the top – and it was fabulous!  The view was spectacular and cheese rolls never tasted so good!  Of course the temperature at the top was cooler than at the bottom and we were all clammy from the exertion so our fleeces and jackets came in handy for our sojourn a the summit. After resting, lunching and photographing with two dozen or so other conquerors, it was time to head back down.  This part is always more painful for me – I’m more tired and more likely to go over on my ankle and thus screw up any other running plans I might have.  So we picked our way carefully down the rocks and then practically ran through the forest part to avoid the flies and we were done!  Two hours up, an hour and 40 minutes down.  Not nearly enough water to drink, lots of fly bites and sunburns but we had done it.

Yes, the sunburns.  Even though we had used sunscreen, quite liberally for some of us, the sweating, swatting at flies and sheer amount of time spent in the sun was too much for the SPF 30 spray and we are now various shades of pink and red in the most interesting places. I apparently neglected the back of my legs or wiped all the sunscreen off swatting at flies and it will now be an interesting flight home tomorrow since the skin on the backs of both knees is pretty sore and tender.  But I’ll proudly wear my Scottish sunburn – as will most of the country after this week’s weather I’m afraid!

We caught the 6 pm ferry back across to Ardrossan and since we were exhausted and cold, it of course ran  into technical problems and took an extra 20 minutes or so to dock.  We made it to the petrol station to put enough diesel in the car to get us home today and to the airport tomorrow and for some reason, the automated pumps wouldn’t accept our credit card (Exceeded daily limit?) so it was a good thing Stephen was there to bail us out or we’d still be at the Asda at Ardrossan harbor.

And so home we go.  Gillian had requested a chippy before we left and although earlier in the day when we were sweaty and exhausted, I loathed the though of fried food, now that we were done and cold, it sounded fantastic.  So off we go to the Marina Cafe where you can get the best fish suppers on the west coast of Scotland.  It’s run by Lorena (and family) whom I’ve known since we were 15 and it was great to see her again.  Armed with pizzas, fish, haggis and chicken for me, we had a fabulous meal!  Who knew that Italian rose wine went so well with a chicken supper!

A change of clothes meant we felt much more human so the adults retired to the front room for wine, cheese and oatcakes – the obvious dessert after a fish supper – and lots of great conversation.  Several hours and bottles of wine later, I headed off to bed leaving Frank and Stephen to discuss the finer points of Genesis’ music and drink some whiskey.

Steps: 31,356 – a new record – which Fitbit translated to 13.5 miles.  I don’t know if the equation works in this case because so much travel was up and not across but I’ll assume that if we flattened out Goat Fell and covered the terrain that way, it would be pretty close.

Number of days left before we go home: 1 😦

We packed up the flat and headed round to Tom and Una’s to say our goodbyes for this year.  Gran was pretty perky and we had a wee early birthday celebration as she turns 81 on Saturday.  Then we hit the road to head west to visit my family.

A short stop in Ayr for some lunch at the Wee Windaes and then on to Barassie to begin the weekend with Kathleen and Stephen and family.  We sat in the scorching sunshine and had a lovely barbeque – even though Stephen had to track down more gas for the grill mid-stream. There was much laughter and a fair amount of beer and wine consumed.

Steps: less than 10K so not worth mentioning.

So today started as most days after a night at Gilbert and Jenny’s:  Frank and I were slightly dehydrated and unable to bend over without getting dizzy.  Par for the course… But at least we could sleep in a bit because the first order of business wasn’t scheduled until 10am:  Gillian was getting her first tattoo.  She’s been pestering me to get one since she was 16 and I kept insisting that she would be perfectly within her rights to get one when she was 18.  So in April she turned 18 and today she went to the Top Mark tattoo shop in Stirling and got this tattooed on her right hip:I’d post a picture of the actual ink but it’s kinda messy right now.  It’s a Gaelic phrase that translates to “live and learn” – or at least that’s what she thinks.  If it doesn’t, please don’t tell her.

We spent half an hour while Darryl worked on her hip and I chatted with one of the other tattoo artists who happened to be from outside Salinas, California. He and his wife have lived in Scotland for the last 8 years as she was finishing her schooling:  getting a PhD in English literature.  Yes, I think I have found a more oddly matched couple profession wise than me and Frank.  We thought we were unusual being the mechanic-PhD economist couple.  We think the tattoo artist-PhD in English literature couple might just have us beat!

Half and hour and no major complaints later, she was being bandaged up (with cling wrap!) and given after care instructions which included recommendations for specific lotions and creams – including using Bepanthen twice a day for three days.  In the US, it might be marketed as Desitin.  Yes, Gillian gets to treat her new tattoo with nappy cream!  (That was the best laugh of the morning for me!)

Then we stopped at the Bluebell Tea Room for a hot chocolate, coffee and gluten free cakes (Victoria sponge and a brownie – both excellent) while Frank and Duncan ran errands for my mother-in-law.  We then met up with our niece Amy and hit the town!  Of all the places we had rummaged through the rummagable, we hadn’t done so in our own back yard so we hit all the British Heart Foundation, Red Cross, Oxfam, Shelter, PSDA shops we could find.  We were pretty successful and came away with more books, a wooly jumper, a flannel and a few other odds and sods.

Then lunch at the City Walls pub – which is a neat place actually built into the city wall of Stirling with a lovely roof terrace where we could eat our bar lunch in the screaming sunshine.  Scotland has outdone itself again with beautiful sunny skies and temperatures in the high 70’s and low 80’s.  Gammon steaks, steak pie, Chicken Balmoral and chicken tikka – typical Scottish pub food – were on the menu for us today.

Then back to the shops.  Gillian has also been looking for a messenger bag – a very particular messenger bag which to me looks like a airline bag from the 1970’s but she is quite keen on.  We saw many versions in leather in Italy for upwards of 100 euros but that was out of her price range.  We saw a sporty, non-leather version in Schuh for 45 pounds which was much more up her alley and so another purchase procured.  Even Duncan enjoyed some success, purchasing his first pair of Doc Martin’s.  This brings the ‘trips to Europe where Duncan has bought shoes’ count to three straight.  (Cue Imelda Marcos joke.)

We decided to complete the day with a quick trip to the only charity shop in Bridge of Allan – they are generally too posh for such things – and found that even the cheap stuff in a posh town tends to be posh.  We ran into Jean and Jimmy on the high street and got a chance to say cheerio as we’ll be off to Troon tomorrow.  They recommended one last stop:  a charity shop in Dunblane so we made one last run and procured even more books before heading back home.

The rest of the afternoon was spent packing and doing wash as tomorrow we vacate this lovely flat and head to the west coast for more family visits:  with my family this time. I see more wine drinking and world problem solving discussions in my future… but first we have to figure out how to get all this stuff into our cases.  That took the better part of an hour and half a bottle of wine to manage.  Then off to a quiet dinner just the four of us before a final visit with Tom and Una and Gran.

Steps: 16, 877 or 7.27 miles

Number of papers with Andy Murray on the front page: 0 (but we did get to see the gold post box in Dunblane!)

Another morning with no set schedule so I was up and out for a run early while Frank helped run some errands with Una for his mom.  Then it was bacon rolls all around and we were out for the morning visit to Gran.

Once we had popped round to check in, we headed east under cloudy skies with fairly cool temperatures.  This was the Scottish weather we had planned for! We headed to Falkirk to continue the quest for Gillian’s jumpers.  We must have hit 6 or 8 charity shops (thrift stores in the US) looking for donated wooly things but with no luck.  My quest for books that I can’t get at home was much more successful.  Wandered into the Waterstones on the high street and they not only had the Camilla Lackberg book I was looking for – the next one in the series – but they also had the most recently translated one still in hardcover that I thought wasn’t going to be available in English anywhere until the fall.  Score!

I bought both and then we wandered into the charity shop 4 doors down the road and what to do I see on the shelf:  the paperback book I JUST BOUGHT for full price in the book shop!  So I bought the second hand one for 2 pound and returned the new one that I paid 8 quid for to the book shop.  The difference was enough for a bottle of wine!

Then a light lunch at a tea room where I got a jacket potato with Coronation Chicken, Gillian got a chicken and mango chutney wrap – Frank got the panini version – and Duncan got a haggis and cheese toastie with sweet chili sauce.  He insists that it was delicious and I was glad I had an excuse not to have a taste.  Eew.

Then off for some history.  By the time we were finished with lunch, the sun had broken through the clouds and it looked like another lovely, albeit cooler, day was on tap. Today’s destination was Linlithgow palace where Mary Queen of Scots (and many other Stewarts) were born and lived.  The palace dates back to the 12 century and although a ruin now, it is a very well preserved ruin.  We arrived on a day when there were junior tour guides in from the local school and we did a short tour with two young lassies (around 12 or 14) in period dress who pointed out some of the features of the palace.  Like the fact that the fireplace in the great hall is the largest in Scotland.  Very well done and very interesting.  A climb up Margaret’s Bower gave some beautiful views of the the loch and the surrounding countryside.  Frank even made it up the tower for a wee peek and then headed back down to terra firma.

Because no outing is complete without some stained glass, we popped into St. Michael’s church next door to the palace which is now a parish church for the Church of Scotland but was once the royal church for the palace.  Dating back nearly as long as the palace, it is a lovely place, also very well maintained, with some amazing stained glass windows in the east transept.  They certainly don’t date back to 1242 when the building was consecrated (more like 1992) but they are stunning nevertheless.

So our history lesson more or less complete, we continued east to South Queensferry, a lovely wee town just to the south of the Firth of Forth with stunning views of the Firth and both the road and rail bridges.  It was time for a treat so we got some ice cream from a local shop – Duncan’s was Malteser flavored and Frank had Irn Bru sorbet! – and had a little wander around.

Then it was back for the afternoon visit to Gran before our evening out in Cambusbarron at Gilbert and Jenny’s house.  This time we didn’t even pretend that we would be in a fit state to drive home and we walked the 1.5 miles from the flat.  It was lovely as always to see them and hear about their holiday in Turkey and how Gilbert dislocated his shoulder – not something anyone wants to do in Turkey I would think.  Chinese was the take away of the night – it still amazes me how much ethnic cuisine differs across areas.  Frank and Gillian had a dish that was called Kung Pao chicken and yet it was nothing like what we would get at home ordering the same dish.  I got a version of sweet and sour chicken that didn’t have the meat breaded.  It was very tasty but again, nothing like what we get at home:  much more tomato flavor to the sauce and actual tomatoes in the dish with the chicken. But they do have one thing here that we don’t and should:  prawn crackers! I’m sure they are incredibly bad for you but oh so tasty!  They went well with the food and all the wine and beer that was consumed.  As Gilbert had to work on Thursday, we took our leave and walked back to the flat, arriving just before midnight.

Steps:  15, 590 or 6.71 miles (much of which was up and down tower steps in the palace)

Number of days Andy Murray is on the front page: 4ish.  He only made it to the tabloid papers today.  The other papers were screaming about the heatwave.  Apparently, the rail lines around Edinburgh got too hot yesterday for the trains to run so they had to pack folks onto buses.  The headline on the Herald says: “Scotland swelters in 84 degree temperatures”!!!!

No rest for the wicked today:  it’s distillery tour day and we need to be up and out sharpish if we’re going to get to Speyside and the Cardhu or Cragganmore distilleries today.  Everyone is up and bathed and we are out of the flat by 7:40 and on the road north.  We stopped in Pitlochry for breakfast and realized that we still had 2 more hours to go.  By which time, we could spend 3 hours visiting and then back in the car for 3ish hours back.  Suddenly Speyside whiskeys  lost their appeal.  Quick change of plans and a new route typed into Posh Margaret (as we now call the GPS in the hire car) and 35 minutes later we are in Dalwhinnie, the highest inhabited village in Britain (at 350ish meters) with the coldest average temperature (year round average 6 degrees Celcius).  And home to the Dalwhinnie distillery.

We joined the 11 am tour and were guided through the “medium sized” operations (2.2 million liters produced each year) by an excellent tour guide.  Even though we have been to several distilleries in the past (this is at least our 6th), we learned things that we hadn’t heard before which was nice.  And most importantly…. drum roll please… I actually liked the whiskey!  After dozens of attempts, I have found a whiskey that I actually find palatable – enough so that I even finished Gillian’s dram!  It’s very light and sweet and not like something Frank would drink.  So he didn’t buy it – or at least not the standard 15 year old since we can get it at home.  He did buy the distiller’s edition which goes through a secondary aging in sherry casks which changes the character completely.  He also bought a bottle of the Cragganmore Distiller’s Edition (since they are owned by the same conglomerate) which is stronger than I care for as well.  I sense a plan here….

We spent some time having a mini picnic in the sunshine on the distillery grounds (jam rolls and crisps) before deciding on our next stop.  Since we knew we were due back in Stirling for 6 o’clock, we decided to stay somewhat local and headed for Bruar Falls which is on the nearby Blair Atholl estate. It was starting to get really warm out so we traded in our jeans for lighter weight clothes and headed up the trail to the falls.  It was a lovely walk and I would have been very happy to have done the whole 2 mile loop but the Perthshire flies apparently love Gillian so we couldn’t stay as long as we might have wanted.

Back to Pitlochry for a bar lunch and another wander through woolen mill shops to no avail.  Then onto Aberfeldy, just because it was there but it didn’t hold any interest for us so we started down the very narrow track, which I can’t believe is an A road, along the side of Loch Tay to Killin.  One of my favorite villages in Stirlingshire, it sits at the base of Loch Tay and is home to the Falls of Dochart. We have photos of the kids playing in the falls when they were much younger and we didn’t spend much time here but did wanted to stop for a bit to cool off.

Because it was bloody hot today!  I mean like Washington DC or Italy hot!  Apparently Strathallan in Perthshire (very close to where we were ) hit 29 degrees Celcius – or 84 degrees Fahrenheit – and was the hottest place in Scotland.  For some reason 29 in Scotland seemed far hotter than 29 in Italy.  We were melting, and apparently so was the rest of the country.  We saw people outside in various states of undress and everyone seemed to be eating ice cream.  Scottish dairies must be loving this!

We sped back to town (windows down of course – I refuse to use AC in Scotland!) in time for a large family gathering at Tom and Una’s including a visit from Auntie Jean.  Another copious quantity of Indian take away was consumed before we headed out for the evening. Tomorrow, we have no agenda so maybe I’ll get a run in before we do nothing of significance.

Steps taken: 11, 405 or about 5 miles (20 times that spent in the car)

Number of days in a row Andy Murray has been on the front page of most papers: 3

(In case you wanted to experience his win as Duncan and Gillian did, here’s a sound clip of the noise in the Tappit Hen.)

(and other interesting tales)

This morning started cloudy and cool and for a while we thought the imported heat we brought from Italy had moved on.  Frank and I walked down to the shop to get the paper just in case something besides Wimbeldon happened yesterday.  Apparently not:  of the 14 daily papers (yes, that says fourteen) in the shop, every one had the same basic photo of Andy kissing the trophy with headlines touting the victory and calling for his knighthood.  If Egypt actually imploded yesterday, we wouldn’t have found out about it from today’s papers.

A quick breakfast (rolls with sausage and/or egg) and some showers followed.  Before we headed out, we got a quick visit from our landlord Anne who lives in the house above us.  In case I haven’t described the Laurels in much detail, it’s basically a granny flat fitted out in the basement of a big house.  The proprieter lives upstairs in the main house and we finally got to meet her as she was away for most the weekend.  As we have nothing but good things to say about the accommodation, it was a quick and friendly visit and then we were off to see Frank’s mum.

Helen was very chipper this morning and in good spirits so we had another lovely visit and a quick cup of tea thanks to my niece Amy.  We then headed into town to take care of errands.  First, we had to stop in the tattoo shop so Gillian could talk to the tattoo artist and book her appointment.  Yup, that’s what she’s using her birthday money for.  And she’s 18.  And I’ll be there with the anticeptic wipes and kleenex when it’s done and she realizes it hurts.  {sigh} More fun for me was a stop in Waterstones to get books I can’t get at home.  I scored one Camila Lackberg book that’s translated into English but not yet in the US plus a new Dawn French and Sue Townsend book.  Thank goodness for the empty case we brought with us. We’re going to need it…..

After the trip to Callander today.  Even though we were just there on Saturday with Gran, she wasn’t up for a wander around so we didn’t visit any of the shops.  Today, though, Gillian had a mission:  cheap wool jumpers to take with her to Vermont in the fall.  There are woolen mill shops galore in Callander for us to explore – after some lunch.  We had a lovely bar lunch at the Riverside Inn, mostly because they have a beer garden that overlooks the River Teith.  By the time we were done with lunch, we were sweltering.  Yesterday was officially the hottest day of the year in Britain – until today I’m certain.  We were wearing jeans and T-shirts but the sun was scorching and we were melting.  Which made the idea of going into shops to try on wool clothing a little absurd.  But we did.  Or Gillian did.  In several shops.  And though there aren’t as many outlet shops as I remember and they don’t seem to have quite the great deals that I recall, we did get two very nice lambswool Vnecks for 17 pounds each.  So the winter wardrobe collection has begun.

The final stop was to be Bridge of Allan for two very important items.  First, we noticed yesterday that the window of the butcher (which was shut on Sunday) was advertising gluten free square sausage.  Woo hoo!  Normally I can’t eat it because it’s made with rusks but we hurried back from Callander to get some for my morning roll tomorrow.  Only to find that they shut early on a Monday…. 😦

Oh well, on the the art gallery next door where we had seen a painting by Frank’s pal Allison Young (remember the old girlfriend we met in M&S?) and it was one that was small enough that we can easily get it home.  So we scored on the art but not on the sausage which I’m sure I can live with.  Then we headed back to the flat for a wee while as I had to take a conference call.  Yes, I know I am on holiday but apparently Congressional stupidity doesn’t take a vacation so there was a little work to be done.

Then back to Bridge of Allan for the best treat of the day:  Gluten free fish and chips!  The Allanwater Cafe does all gluten free fish on Mondays.  They change the oil in the fryers on Sunday night so all the fish is done in GF batter on Monday.  I was in heaven, greasy, salty, heaven.  Still couldn’t have any vinegar as all they have her is malt vinegar (and trust me, I have looked *everywhere* for regular distilled or spirit vinegar as they call it here and it is not to be found.) but that’s okay.  I have to confess that Paulino’s on the Glasgow Road does much nicer chips but I can only get the chicken supper there so being able to have fish was quite a treat!  We got takeout and sat at a picnic table by the Allan Water and enjoyed our supper.

Then home again – but not for long.  The long days here are driving Frank mad and he can’t abide sitting in the flat when it’s still light out (which it is until well after 10pm) so we wandered into town for a drink at No. 2 Baker Street where they have a nice selection of cask ales – and Duncan is keen to try as many as he can!  Just a wee Martini and lemonade for me and Gillian and it really is time to head home – even if it is still light out.  Tomorrow is going to be a long day:  we head north to find whiskey!

Steps: 17, 840 or 7.68 miles (but I need to get more in or run more cuz the clothes are feeling a tad snug!)

It took a little while to get moving this morning after the hilarity of last night.  I was up far earlier than I would have liked and after Frank got up, we headed into town to get fresh morning rolls and the papers.  Of course we forgot it was Sunday and most of the bakers were shut so we headed to the new Waitrose superstore and got fresh rolls (regular and GF).

Then it was time to raise the offspring – the smell of bacon grilling for bacon rolls helped.  We managed to get them up and out in time to head out for their big event of the day:  heading into Dunblane to watch Andy Murray, the city’s native son, vie for the Wimbledon title and a chance to be the first Brit in 76 years to do so. When cousin Nikki first suggested the outing, Duncan and Gillian were a bit dubious that spending a Sunday afternoon in a pub watching tennis would be a worthwhile endeavor but they were game for a laugh.  They had no idea how big Wimbledon is in Britain and how big Andy Murray is in Scotland.  There are posters in shop windows all over town with “C’mon Andy” printed in big letters. So they got to the Tappit Hen in time to get ready for the match.

And what a match it was. Although today’s weather was absolutely fabulous – sunny and upper 70’s to 80 – there was a huge conflict in the nation between enjoying the rays and watching the tennis. Frank and I spent a bit of time with his mum getting her sorted in  her flat before having a nap and then wandered into town for some lunch and to see what choices people were making. We spent as much time in the gorgeous weather before giving in and heading to Tom and Una’s to watch the match.  They’d brought Frank’s mum over as well and we all sat an stared at the screen, completely enthralled with the play.  I confess that I have never been much of a tennis fan but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the telly.  Even in our small group, as the time passed we became more and more excited that Andy could actually do it.

And then he did. Duncan and Gillian tell me that the atmosphere was electric in Dunblane, with free drinks in the pub and partying in the street.Even in out small group, where were screams and a few folks near to tears.  We were having our Sunday tea with the family and it happened to be ready during the last set and no one wanted to sit at the table and miss any of the match – so we had our roast chicken and veg on trays while the excitement grew until the match was won.

The excitement was too much for Frank’s mum so she was off to sleep and Tom was off to work (back shift this week -ugh) so we headed out to Bridge of Allan to get some ice cream and enjoy the beautiful weather by the Allan Water before popping in to visit more relatives while waiting for the offspring to finish their celebrating and come home.  Once they did, we had a quick drink with Jim and Therese before they headed out to their holiday in Portugal.

Then back to the flat with some carry out for Duncan and Gillian and it’s into the bath for me.  A glass of wine, a lavender kiss from Lush and my book and I was in heaven.  Follow it up with a couple of episodes of Father Ted and it was nearly a perfect day.

Steps: 16, 189 or 7 miles.

Screams:  more than I could count.

Even though last night was not a late night (by most Cannon family gathering standards), we decided to make today a mellow day of rest.  Some of us were actually able to sleep in – I was not one of them and found myself wide awake at 7 am.  So I puttered around trying to decide how to spend some quality alone time without waking the rest of the family and I came up with only one option:  run!

So I broke out my running shoes and gear, so neglected in Italy, tried to revive my Garmin and headed out into the beautifully sunny morning. Yes, I said sunny when talking about Scotland.  I headed straight through town, garnering looks from the folks headed to work on a Saturday morning.  Down past the Raploch and over the Stirling Bridge to the Causewayhead roundabout.  The Garmin took 7 minutes for the satellites to find me then died shortly after the turn around so I have to guess at both time and distance (5 miles at about 45 minutes – probably less but that’s a safe bet).  I stopped at the Spar for the butter we forgot when shopping yesterday then popped into the bakers for half a dozen morning rolls for the family. I got back to find Frank trying to suss out the coffee maker while the “kids” still slept.

Frank and I  had a lovely breakfast on our own (roll with sausage and egg for him, toast with jam and yoghourt with fruit and muesli for me) and then decided to head into town and let them sleep.  We wandered around the town stopping at the chemists for a few items as well as the news agent’s for a paper.  We noted all the things that had changed in the town both since I was a student there 25+ years ago and over the visits we’ve made since then.  We chatted about people we’ve known and those we’d like to see again while we are here.  Frank recently reconnected with an old girlfriend on Facebook  and was hoping to see her while we were here; she’s quite an accomplished landscape artist and I was eager to meet her. We also tried to figure out whose phone number we still had and who we’d jut have to pop in on.

As it was getting close to lunchtime, we decided to pick up a few things at the Marks & Spencer food hall so we could have lunch while the offspring were having breakfast.  While wandering the aisles deciding on a salad, Frank leaned over and whispered to me, “ I think that’s Allison” – referring to the old girlfriend we had been discussing earlier. He was hesitant to approach her as he hadn’t seen her in more than 25 years and he didn’t want to look like an idiot.  I, on the other hand, have no problem with him looking like an idiot and encouraged him to take a chance.  Which he did, and it was her.  So they had an interesting reunion in the checkout line at Marks and Sparks.  What are the chances?

We aroused the sleeping beasts, made them bathe and everyone enjoyed the appropriate home cooked meal.  Then off to visit Gran.  She seemed to be having a good day today so we decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and go for a drive.  We piled everyone in the car and headed for Callandar – along with most of the rest of Scotland. Gran was not up for a wander about town so we got ice cream and then headed home via a different route through the Trossachs.  We then made a pit stop to visit the other branch of the Cannon family as Tom is currently working night shifts and we wanted to catch him before he headed out to work.  We had a lovely visit with Tom, Una, Nikki, Amy and Ross and after the obligatory cup of tea, headed home since Gran was worn out.

A brief respite at the flat (where the wifi is spotty at best unfortunately) and then we headed out to cabaret night at McQ’s, the local pub where Jim tends bar.  And what a spectacle that turned out to be!  First the three course meal (served by my niece Leah who also works at the pub)  with a few pints of cider.  Then Johnny Lee Memphis, Elvis impersonator, took the stage.  What a howl!  He’s from Tullibody not Tennessee and had the obligatory sequined jumpsuit on.  He actually looked more like John Stamos than Elvis but there you go.  He sang half a dozen less popular Elvis songs before taking a short break and returning with a new outfit and some dancers.  Holy Vegas Strip Batman! The dancers were decked out in beads and feathers and didn’t seem to know precisely what was going on.  Eventually we got to some of the more famous Elvis songs as well as Tina Turner and a few other artists.  The room was filled with  (mostly) middle aged women and couples – Duncan and Gillian lowered the mean age by a good 20 years – but everyone seemed to be having a great laugh.

The capper for the evening was when Jim got up to do a dance routine with two other lads from the audience (one who looked like a Hobbit in an Elvis wig!) and was even coaxed into “singing” a bit.  I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard – I actually howled! We eventually called it a night and headed up the road to Jim and Therese’s house where we waited for a taxi to take us back to the flat.  Unfortunately, the wifi still wasn’t working which is why this post is late.

Steps: 12, 922 or 5.6 miles

(Plus the 5 miles I ran this morning but the family doesn’t get to take credit for it.)