adc, JS and I took a later train than usual, bringing us into Glasgow around 16:00. Price, you see. It was nice to have a full night's sleep and a run in before leaving. The journey was pretty uneventful and Glasgow seems as welcoming as ever (well, it is grey and gloomy).
From the station, we take a cab to the car-rental place. The smiley cabbie tells us how to get out of town, information that I will quickly forget the details of. Nae bother: we have a map, a satellite-navigation device, and a decent sense of direction. To say we have come prepared would be a huge understatement! Last time we drove in Scotland, I even forgot the map...
The formalities of the car rental out of the wa-... Hang on! I cannot find an identification document! Where did I file my ID card? Well, I have forgotten it, it seems.
"Here is my business card," says the agent. "Send me a picture of it when you find it."
Incredulous at how I manage to obtain the keys to the vehicle without a piece of ID, I quickly panic when he asks me for a credit card for the deposit: my card is with my ID; if I cannot find one, the other is also AWOL.
adc steps in for the deposit, but I am already worrying about something else: how am I supposed to take a picture of a card I do not have... with a camera I also cannot find?
Great start to the holiday, that. I am in Remotelandia with no proof of ID, no means of payment whatsoever (cash is so dated), no camera and, oh!, my home keys are also nowhere to be seen.
Unexpectedly, none of that seems to be an obstacle to our driving away. I love Scotland.
The satnav helps us out of the Glasgow metropolis, but really, I am now on autopilot, called by the lochs and the braes. The traffic is much worse going into Glasgow than it is going out of it, which is a big relief. In no time at all, the proverbial Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond are in sight, then it is the steep ascent towards Beinn Ime, Rest and Be Thankful, Cairndow and Achadunan, where our first stop is.
Since we have a car, this year, we put it to good use from day one. For the first time, we stop at Fyne Ales, a week ahead of the festival (it is festival season!), but it is a good opportunity to try their beers (including Swissky-favourite Jarl) without having to fend off the hordes. I only dip my lips, seeing as I am driving. JS buys a few for the road.
Draught or bottled
Lots of beer to be gobbled
The bar is nice and relaxed, friendly and well stocked. However, we have engagements. I usher the ladies back into the car and drive off with a mission. I am hungry. Well, I am about to be hungry, which is almost as bad.
There is no passing by Loch Fyne without stopping at Loch Fyne Oysters, if we are driving. So, we do.
"I have a booking for 17:40," I say. "We are two minutes late, I hope that is ok."
"Yes. We were about to close the kitchen," she answers with a smile so wide that it takes me until the end of the meal to realise she was not joking.
adc jumps onto the scallops. "I rarely have a chance, so I take advantage!" she says. Just you wait... :-)
Scallops with black pudding (adc)
Lobster bisque (JS)
Leek and potato soup (me)
Peterhead haddock and chips (adc)
Seafood linguini (JS)
Scallops with black pudding (me)
Once replenished, we drive to Lochgilphead, then Tarbert, Kennacraig and Tayinloan, where road works stop us for around fifteen minutes. It does not matter. We have eaten already, the weather is good, the traffic is not bad and the scenery is staggering. It is holiday time alright.
And a great time to clown around
We arrive in Campbeltown around 21:00 as planned, happy to be there, but not exhausted by almost twelve hours of travelling.
Campbeltown Festival 2019. Read here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Day 4 -- Saturday, the 25th May
After those sun-soaked, fun-packed days, Campbeltown turns all rainy and gloomy. One option is to go to Arran, but the ladies are not up for it. Instead, we take the car around the Mull of Kintyre (and fail to spot Glenramskill distillery).
Davaar Island from the road
Busy road, in rush hour...
We stop in Machrihanish, where we spot shellducks, shags, oystercatchers, kittiwakes, wagtails, eiders, a couple of mallards, jackdaws, a heron and rock pipits.
We carry on to a welcoming bird observatory that shelters us for an hour or two.
Time stops, here
Eddie Maguirre, the warden, helps us identify some birds, points at others, and generally humiliates everyone with incredible shots of birds that we cannot even locate. There, we see ringed plovers, wheatears, a heron, shellducks again, a gannet, oystercatchers. EM spots a seal we will never see ourselves (except on his picture).
We leave EM with another birder to find, just around the corner, a handful of common seals (the ones that are grey and rather rare, not to be confused with grey seals, which are brown and relatively common) playing in the water and resting on rocks, more rock pipits and, especially, an otter -- a first for me!
Common seal, in the centre
Two more common seals' heads appear in the water
Time to take a little rest. Driving on the Mull of Kintyre is not smooth sailing, as it is mostly single-track roads and steep inclines with poor visibility.
...and lots of traffic
JS prepares a giant-couscous salad with pasta instead of giant couscous. The flying-saucer pasta is excellent, better than giant couscous, I find. Unfortunately, no picture.
We walk around town in search for the closed distilleries, but abort, due to the weather. Cadenhead's shop has nothing for us either. A few drams, then early night.
Day 5 -- Sunday, the 26th May
We are up early for a breakfast of champions. JS is participating in the MOK Run, today. I am concerned with the weather, which is all but pleasant, now. 'Stormy' would be a more accurate description, windy and drizzling.
After leaving JS on the departure line, adc and I resume our archaeology tour in search of dead distilleries. Again, we are forced to abandon by the weather.
We call at the Linda McCartney memorial and go for a snack before joining JS on the finish line.
Just as we cross the roundabout, she appears, running for haggis nachos
The weather is so bad I fear she will catch a cold, but JS says she is too hot. We head for lunch (an improvised mozzarella and tomato salad -- how very Campbeltonian!) before resuming our distillery hunt once more, under much more cooperative skies, this time. Details here.
A decent way to finish our provisions
A nod to the bottler of Campbeltown Commemoration:
Cadenhead's C'town shop used to be the Eaglesome shop...
...which doubled up as a shelter for Italian refugees -- no wonder
the pasta-eaters invented single cask whisky
Time to shower, then head out for a late supper at the Harbourview Grille.
We share haggis nachos as a starter
adc has scallops, of course
Grilled salmon fillet for JS
Seafood gratin for me -- piping hot!
Day 6 -- Monday, the 27th May
Today, we leave the Wee Toon for this year. We have an early-ish departure to avoid the traffic (!) Loading up the automobile is no party. We have considerably more to carry than we had five days ago, when we arrived...
We take the east-coast road to Claonaig to avoid the main route. It is as beautiful as I remembered it.
Not this time!
A quick stop at Claonaig for pictures of Arran, then we cut across Kintyre to Kennacraig, where the traffic becomes immediately more dense. From there, Tarbert, then Lochgilphead, but we do not head back to Inveraray -- oh! no.
We race boats instead!
Northwards it is, on the A816 to Craobh Haven. There, we are surprised to find holiday cottages and a marina, in the middle of nowhere. The reason for our stop, though, is Lord of the Isles.
I am nervous that we have no table reserved, but the place is empty as we arrive. Yay. The food is excellent. We destroy it.
adc's lobster (before)
adc's lobster (after)
JS's lobster (before)
JS's lobster (after)
My crab and wild mushrooms
(before)
My crab and wild mushrooms
(after)
The next step of our journey is Oban.
The distillery is very busy: all tours are fully booked for several days. Once again, we do not tour it, then. I think it is the fourth time running. No big whoop -- Diego's distilleries are not the most interesting to tour anyway.
We stop at Oban Whisky and Fine Wines (aka Whisky Fix) which has a decent-ish selection, at ridiculously high prices for the top tier. We go for an ice cream next door at the Pokey Hat (disappointing) and despair at the number of tourists.
Oban is unpleasant, today. We fill the tank with petrol, then head for the CalMac parking lot, where we simply chill for an hour.
The Clansman makes JS want to, "scream for Bruce, Oban!"
We board (not The Clansman) and depart on time.
From a distance, Oban looks almost peaceful
It is an easy crossing to Craignure, past sombre Duart castle, all wrapped in scaffoldings. I suppose it means we will not visit it, this time, then. Yes, we are going to Mull.
Under construction
Once landed in Craignure, the drive to Tobermory is uneventful, despite the busy road. Some cars got off the boat with us, whilst others are trying to go home from work, presumably. Our accommodation is strategically situated and easy to find: it is the distillery's old bonded warehouse.
Right across the road
As one would expect of a bonded warehouse, it is cold and damp, but otherwise very comfortable.
AND THE DOORMAT HAS A DRAWING OF DUCKS WITH BOOTS!
WITH BOOOOOTS!!!1
We head to town for some shopping -- Tobermory is b.u.s.y. Home-made sardine-and-anchovy pasta is on the menu and it is delicious. We reminisce the amazing scenery we have gone through all day with a dram.
Day 7 -- Tuesday, the 28th May
Early start to what promises to be a long day. At 8:00, we depart for Dervaig, proceed to Calgary and, much further, Ulva Ferry. It is the most beautiful road I have ever driven on, despite the constant need to focus on the road, rather than the scenery.
Sometimes, we stop
We do arrive at Ulva Ferry with a bit of time to spare and find a small group of camera-equipped geeks -- we are in good company. It will happen to not be a very sociable lot, so we end up not socialising too much.
Once on the boat, I spot a black guillemot (my first). "On the boat"? Yes, we are on a Turus Mara excursion called The Big Bird Trip.
Stunning geology, already
We arrive at Staffa when I realise a couple of our co-excursionists are speaking Afrikaans. Saffas on Staffa, haha!
Staffa is mobbed. Much more so than on our first visit, ten years ago, it seems. Some basalt columns have collapsed into the sea, meaning access to Fingal's cave is impossible. Other than that, it is beautiful. I am relieved that adc's dodgy knee is not so dodgy and she manages to jumps from rock to rock like a mountain goat (well, not quite).
But still!...
At the entrance of the cave, amateur photographers and models are ambushed by a treacherous wave that soaks many pairs of trousers and shoes. I find all that very amusing -- but of course, I am dry. And smug. :-)
We only have under an hour on Staffa.
The pontoon to embark back
Leaving Staffa offers stunning views
The next leg takes us to the point of the journey: Lunga. After some confusion regarding where to dock the floating pontoon, we set foot on Lunga, where we have four hours to spend. The walk to the island from the rocky beach is demanding and I wonder if adc will make it -- she does, easily.
Once on higher ground, heaven is the prize. Puffins, razorbills, guillemots, wrens, kittiwakes, shags, black-backed seagulls, rock pipits, eiders, greylag geese, you name it. JS even spots a curlew and a wheatear.
First things first: escape the crowd (Lunga is busy too) for a bite. We shelter in an old sheepfold for a humble lunch.
It always rains, in Scotland...
The sun is out and the day looks grand. We have a splash of Caol Ila 34yo, because why not? It tastes amazing, in these circumstances.
On the way up, we came across a guy with a screaming baby in his arms and people with dogs... in a birds sanctuary! Later, I will have to tell youth idiots off for stepping onto burrows for pictures. In less than ten years, I would wager access will be more strictly regulated. Sad, but necessary. People are stupid and there are too many of them.
The rest of our stay on Lunga needs no words.
This puffin was enjoying a glass of Caol Ila 34yo
when we spotted him
It turned out to be Paul McCartneux!
Razorbill
Shag
Bluebells
Rather pleased with this shot
Life does not suck, right now
On the crossing back, we see common seals again.
From Ulva Ferry, we take the road to Salen, then the east coast to Tobermory. It is slightly less picturesque and much less pleasant (busier), but the way we came is too long to drive back.
Baaaaa-ry vusy roads
A quick shower, then we are off to supper at Café Fish. They are bringing huge plates of fish to a table near the door. As soon as we are seated (it is quick: I have a booking), I ask the waitress what they are having: the sole. "There might be only one left," she tells me. "Not anymore!"
Some of the dishes on that board disappear rather quickly
adc and I have the leek and potato soup, whilst JS goes for the Italian fish soup. adc then has coley, JS has the hallibut, and I have the sole, which, I point out to the waiter, is now sole-d out. The meal is unbelievable, as expected.
Leek and potato soup (adc)
Italian fish soup (JS)
Leek and potato soup (me)
Grilled coley
Hallibut (JS)
Grilled sole with lime butter (me)
Vegetables and risotto accompaniment
The table of French next to us are struggling with the lingo. The waiter asks us if we speak French, I offer to help them choose. They ask me if I am Irish too (good start!) They hilariously compliment my French when I tell them I am Belgian. I point out I have no merit, seeing as it is my mother tongue. It seems to confuse them more than a plane without wings, which makes me laugh even more.
"Yor French is mush bétaire zan my English, hein!"
It is a later start, today. We drive to Dervaig again; the roads are much busier and the road is therefore much less pleasant than yesterday. We overshoot our target and end up in Ballygown. I did spot the parking lot we are meant to stop at, but we missed everything else that would have confirmed that was the right parking lot. We trace our steps back on stupidly steep inclines (20% was hard going down, imagine going up!), which amounts to a twenty-kilometre detour. Ah! well. We find the right place, in the end.
Our activity for the day will be a hike around the Treshnish Coast. We see butterflies, sheep, wheatears, pipits (meadow and tree), housemartins, but not much else, faunawise.
Not just any old sheep, though!
The flora in no particular order
Extraordinary scenery, on the other hand.
Gentle, in the beginning
We walk past cottages, pastures, cliffs and sea views.
Those white dots are adventurous sheep
The Dutchman's Cap, in the distance
Sometimes, we are reminded we walk atop a cliff
A recognisable rocky head
We have the hardest time finding the Whisky Cave, but we do, in the end. adc throws the towel and does not descend into the goe with JS and me, worried that she is about her knee.
Not sure why...
The cave is hidden by a grass mound
Inside the cave, a stone oven remains, upon which the still used to be. A group of French arrive right after us and annoy me: they are a noisier group than we are, and they step into every photo shoot I plan. I leave and let them do their bit of exploration before going back in, alone.
Worth the effort
Prices slashed on 3rd-generation Air Max for the sporty ones
who can make it to the bottom
The climb back up the cliff is steep, but not difficult. We proceed with our hike and will never see the frogs again.
Further on, we climb a steep ascent towards a tear in the cliffs.
The picture does not reflect the steepness of the slope we just climbed
Once on top, we quickly reach Crackaig, then Glac Gugairidh, two abandoned villages that leave a very strong, eerie impression. The indications assure us typhus made them ghost towns, while the museum tomorrow will tell us they were victims of the clearances. Presumably, there is no-one alive who can give us the truth.
Crackaig
JS, pretending she was born and raised in Crackaig
Glac Gugairidh
The hike carries on through occasionally boggy moorland, but the hardest bits are now behind us. The scenery on the plateau we roam reminds me of Hoy.
Moorland
We spot more pipits, kestrels and a sparrowhawk or a buzzard. in the final stretch, I find a vividly-coloured adder, blocking the way. I try to warn my co-hikers to slow down and be careful, but also to come and see my find. Before they reach me and, annoyingly, before I manage to take my phone out, the adder escapes into the moor. Grrr. Beautiful colours! Luckily, I spot another one on the grit path further on. It has nowhere to escape to easily, and it happily stays still. So still that neither adc nor JS saw it as they walked ten centimetres past it.
Shortly afterwards, we are back on the tarmac to the car park. Eleven kilometres took us roughly six hours. What six hours, though!
We drive back to Tobermory, where the distillery is taking delivery of their new stills. Exciting and baffling! How did they manage to drive that huge lorry on those tiny roads?
Well, the weather was superb again. Only when we are back in Tob, an hour after the end of the hike, does it start raining. Also, adc did very well, despite her dodgy knee. I feared our hiking would approach nil on this trip; how wrong I was!
Ten days ago, this woman could not stand
We shelter for a dram (Tormore 30yo -- RIP) and a shower, before going out for food. Café Fish!
Always a humorous touch, there
Minestrone (adc)
Italian fish soup (JS)
Smoked-mackerel pâté (me)
Smoked haddock, stuffed with queenies (adc)
Simply-grilled hallibut with chilli-and-ginger butter (JS)
Gigha hallibut with broad beans and risotto (me)
Salad
I come up with a slogan for the restaurant:
"You'll stink of fish. You'll pay through the nose. You'll die to go back the following day."
Let us face it: it is not cheap and we pretty much eat in the kitchen, hence the smell. When the quality is that high, those are a very, VERY small price to pay.
I attempt dessert with the sundae. It is a mistake. If a place is famous for its fish dishes, stick with the fish. The sundae is not my thing -- nor my companions'. Ah! well.
One would know just looking at it as well...
Surprisingly, the atmosphere is completely different, tonight. A complete change of staff makes for a very different dynamic. Perhaps I liked the place better last night. The food is still tip top, though (bar the dessert).
Day 9 -- Thursday, the 30th May
The rain has not stopped and is forecast to carry on through the day. We are so relieved to have hiked yesterday and been to the islands the day before, when the sun was out. We all shudder at the thought of being on Lunga for four hours under the rain. How do puffins do it?
Nae matter; I have plans for today. We are in line for a ferry -- a ferry to Kilchoan.
Not you. We will see you tonight.
Right behind us, a minibus stops that wears a note: "Whisky Club Luxembourg," it reads. I get very nervous. Are these guys about to screw up my plans? Once on board, I find out that they are all dressed up in distillery paraphernalia, badges on hats, fleeces and whatnot. That is a bunch of nerds if I know one. My anxiety ramps up and all I can think of during the crossing is a scheme to leave them eat my dust.
What have we here?
AAAAAAAARRGGHHHHH!
Think of something soothing!
When we do disembark, I am satisfied to see how long it takes a minibus to roll off and welcome its passengers back. I am Ayrton Senna, today. Vroom-vroom. In no time, we are on the quiet roads of Ardnamurchan. I do not enjoy the scenery, busy as I am speeding to our destination: Ardnamurchan distillery.
The shop is a gold mine of lost bottles and I am relieved that we beat the Luxos -- who will never make it thus far, after all; not sure where they go, but they will find a much-looted shop if they venture there.
Cannot buy this, of course
This, even less,
that still contains new make
The staff explains we can shop after the visit and we have all the time to do that properly. I tell them about our pursuers and how I want to secure the bounty before they have a chance to even see it. She says a tour just left and we can just about join it, or wait for an hour. We go with the latter, carefully avoiding the two Asians who started the tour as we arrived (for no reason; we saw them in Campbeltown and they seem harmless). Besides, we want the Connoisseurs' Tour.
We spend the hour at the nearby café for a tea, then come back for the tour. It is only us three, yay!
The tour is great, very technical and interesting. We start out in the the warehouse before going into the production, and end in the tasting room. An unusual approach, but one that works marvellously.
In fact, it starts here, with Adelphi casks being reconditioned for
the distillery
A The Macallan-Glenlivet cask
Even an ex-Glen Mhor cask
This dunnage warehouse is built on two storeys
Glenfarclas made a wee joke, here
A cask owned by the SMWS
Mash tun and washbacks -- both wooden and stainless steel
The spirit still
Steam coil in the wash still
The stillhouse is also a greenhouse for plant pots
The luminous tasting room
In the tasting room, the tour we are on gives us three drams each to choose from six different bottles. I am driving, so I cannot do much more than smell. Samples are provided.
The Spirit of Sunart
Glenborrodale
Ardnamurchan spirit
Breath of Speyside
Aultmore
Laphroaig
We also get to try the last drops of an additional bottle; a bottle that ends up in my shopping basket.
This.
It is now raining rather hard.
After East Pole and North Face, the parking lot presents...
We walk back to the café for a bite, then drive back to Kilchoan to catch the ferry... which we miss by seven minutes. Grr.
Baked potato and haggis (adc)
Soup and tuna sarnie (JS)
Soup and haggis toastie (me)
"If you survive, please Chomhghain!"
We kill time at the community centre, where they have a tectonic topology of the peninsula. I am fascinated (geology rocks!)
Charles loaned his nose to Ardnamurchan.
Think what you will of the bloke, that is generous!
Someone was excited (or scared) to see an adder :-)
After a short nap in the car, the ferry is here.
D-Day is coming
Only three cars board it, as well as a couple of cyclists -- she is VERY LOUD! We are back in Tob very swiftly. We call at the distillery shop, where the manager helps us a little, after the staff refused to budge on something almost insignificant (and in their favour). After that, a shower, then Café Fish, of course.
Unfortunately, it is my least favourite meal of the stay on Mull: they do not have what I want and what I end up ordering, I like less than adc's and JS's dishes. Ah! well. Still good, mind.
Fish selection (adc and me)
Fish soup (JS)
Smoked haddock (adc)
Baked hallibut with lime butter (JS)
Grilled hake with anchovy butter (me)
Steamed vegetables
Tomorrow, we will find out what Tin'ead has
been up to, on The Derk Isle
Tobermory by night
As usual, a couple of drams, and the world seems a better place, for a moment.
Day 10 -- Friday, the 31st May
We wake up to this:
New Tobermory stills being installed
After breakfast, we drive the short distance to the dairy farm, where the only girl manning the place gives us a very-lukewarm welcome. She snaps: "I'm not very organised, I have XYZ to do and I'm left here on my own," she apologises. We do not mind and choose cheeses and biscuits -- which she tells us we can find everywhere anyway. Clearly not her day. :-)
The weather is horrible, pissing down. We tour the farm. It starts with windows into the cheese-making, where a bloke shovels whey and curd to split them apart. That is not the first stop, yet it is the first thing we see.
Well, no. The first thing we see is hard-working farm tenants :-)
Yum!
We pass the heat storage, the milking alley that introduces a star cow (on a poster) who raves about how happy she is on the farm (never mind the fact she is being forcefully impregnated once a year to give milk) and how the milking works.
The milking alley
Next is the Victorian cellar, where old-school versions of the tools are shown that were already following the same general process as today.
Next is the cellar, with maturing cheeses.
Each step has its own set of powerful smells and I make mental notes of things I want to use as tasting notes on my other blog. :-)
South Africa's favourite whisky
Back at the ranch...
We have a warm drink and a pastry at the cafeteria (and another sweet apology from the waitress).
The ladies love the cake
Departing the now-busy car park is a drag, but a friendly German kindly helps me with signs.
Back in town, we park the car... and bump into last night's waiter in the corridor of our building -- he is our neighbour. He recommends going early, today. We head for lunch... at Café Fish.
The counter at Café Fish
We get a table immediately; others are not as lucky, despite the staff's efforts to accommodate. Many also clearly take the piss: "A table for four, please. We don't mind waiting." "Actually, there are six of us." "Four adults, four children." "We need high chairs." "Just one more, for the ninth."
I joke with the waiter to help him vent -- he is a relaxed lad, but this is testing his limits, I can see. The food is as good as on the first day.
Moules marinières (adc)
Note the cutlery basket that is a running gag on this trip
Razor clams in Thai yoghurt (JS)
Seafood gratin (me)
Once lunch is settled, we shop a little, then go to the museum. There, we learn all sorts of things about Mull's geology and history -- fascinating, if very crowded, both in terms of people and exhibits.
Even a part about illicit distilling
It is a lot to take in and digestion is kicking in. We need to call it a day.
JS takes us to the ice-cream parlour, but it is closed. We go home for a dram and to watch more distillery kit being installed. After a shower, it is time for dinner (cheese and crackers) and packing. Tomorrow, we start the painful journey home. The holiday had a good duration, but travelling with all that luggage is a daunting prospect. A dram (or two) to ease my mind.
Day 11 -- Saturday, the 1st June
We depart Tobermory around 7:45. The roads are quiet, which means we can drive faster than the previous days. We reach Craignure an hour and a half early. It is a long-ish wait for the boat.
The crossing, on the other hand, is quick and easy.
On the other side, Oban seems like a different world. Tob was crowded, but this is on another scale.
Seagulls looking for a modelling career, too!
We park and go shopping for last-minute souvenirs.
There is a market with a fishmonger who sells crabs the size of a football pitch
Once that is done, it is lunch at Ee-usk, which is empty as we walk in and full after twenty minutes. Hardly surprising, considering its location.
adc has the smoked-haddock chowder and king scallops; JS has fried calamari, then the fish selection; I go for scallops gratin, then king scallops.
Smoked-haddock chowder (adc)
King scallops (adc)
Fried calamari (JS)
Fish selection (JS)
Scallops gratin (me)
King scallops (me)
Finger-licking good and, astonishingly, the meal does not suffer much from the comparison with four days at Café Fish.
adc kindly volunteers to put more money in the ticket machine for the parking, which helps us pace our lunch perfectly.
In Gaelic, that means, "Restaurant that looks like a tourist trap, but is actually a gem, hidden in plain sight."
From Oban, it is an easy drive to Tyndrum, where I do find a bottle to free and take home. Impressively, this is my thirty-third time in Scotland, yet my first visit to Whisky Galore. A slightly-rustic shop with an impressive selection (and prices for all purses).
The next step is as uneventful as the previous and takes us to Dumbarton, in Dunbartonshire (I never understood the difference in spelling), where we arrive three hours earlier than planned. We stroll into town, see the castle from the outside, shop for food and superficially explore the town centre, before heading to our accommodation for rest. I feel a bit bloated and not very hungry.
This was a hive of activity until the 1950s
Dumbarton Castle, like Duart, is under scaffold for the season
Futuristic graffito that is really a painting on a shop, rather than vandalism
Day 12 -- Sunday, the 2nd June
I have been sick overnight. Seafood overdose, clearly. At least, the holiday is over, so it will not spoil that.
Today, we drive to Glasgow (calling at Bowling to see the site of Littlemill), return the automobile and sit at the station for several hours -- thankfully, we have access to the waiting lounge. I am in no state to go to Bread Meats Bread today, the ladies are not hungry for it.
The train to the capital is ok (there are kids in our compartment, but they are not too horrible). I sleep throughout. Tomorrow, school is on.
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