“Just a wee bit hairy”

I feel privileged that I got to be the one to introduce Tucky to the joys of hostels.  Last night we went to bed a little earlier knowing that we had to get up for a trip to the countryside the next day.  We spent the night listening to the men on either side of us orchestrating a snoring symphony like you’ve never heard before.

One sounded like he was gargling his own tonsils while snorting at about a constant B flat minor.  He’d then wake himself up, cough up a lung and then spit (I really don’t want to know where), then return to his sweet slumber and his suffocation.

Therefore, we didn’t feel so bad about getting up at 7.30am and packing our bags. I made sure I found all my plastic bags and gave them a good rustle. I even put 8 jangling bracelets on, to add to my own symphony.

(This bridge was built in the late 1800's by 500 men over about 5 years and is said to be one of the most over engineered bridges because the railway company wanted a bridge that would make people believe and trust in the raliways.  It is also said that 50 workmen died because at lunch they would go and get pissed at the pub and then fall off the bridge.)

We began our tour with a trip to the ancient town of Stirling (our guide is no Diane, but we decided to give Leslie Rose a fair go).  We opted out of looking around the castle, especially as Tucky and Carli have decided that museums and those sorts of things should have an express spaghetti option anyway (see previous post).  Instead we wandered around the town looking for coffee and a bathroom.  Unsuccessful, as all cafes and shops seem not to open until about 1pm, but never fear, the pub is always open bright and early in the morning and so bathrooms were at least found.

The countryside in Scotland is beautiful; it all feels very majestic and grand but unpretentious.

 

We stopped to grab a coffee and to say hi to Hamish the Hairy Highland Cow.  But, as we all got back on the bus with our full cups of hot coffee, Leslie informed us that we should put all luggage on the floor and to put our seatbelts on.  Apparently we were running a little late and the next part of the road was a “wee bit hairy” and she would have to go “hell for leather”.  Tucky spent the next half an hour watching the road ahead yelling ‘go’ when she saw 3 second intervals of smooth tarmac suitable for coffee sipping.  All the while Leslie was pulling out pearlers like “I bet you’re wishing you wore your sports bras today girls”. 

Hamish

wee bit awkward

We stopped at Loch Lomond for lunch and the optional 1 ½ hour boat cruise, which we were looking forward to.  We were the only takers for the cruise but unfortunately Leslie Rose sent us in the wrong direction.  Walking through the old boat yard we ended up at a rickety little jetty just in time to see ‘our’ boat cruise off about 1km from where we were...  No worries though, we found a man with a boat, (not the large covered cruise boat that Tuck and Carli were so looking forward to) who offered to drop us off at “that island over there”.  So the three of us boarded the small rickety wooden boat for the 10 minute trip to some little island.  I tried to lift the morale with comments like “ooh, but there’s a cute little wooden rudder” and “we have it all to ourselves” and “there’s still water?”, unfortunately it didn’t quite live up to the expectation of what was promised, but I still thought it was fun.  We took a little stroll around the island and our captain didn’t forget to bring us back either. 

Capt'n

Deep down they loved it

 

Next stop was the Glengoyne distillery where we had a tour and a taste of the 10 year old and 17 year old whiskey. I think this is perhaps where the quote of the day occurred as we were lining up to get in.

Tucky: “do you think I can have it with coke?...No?... Diet coke?”

As I'm a little ignorant about whiskey , it was interesting to hear about the process and to understand the differences between single malt, double malt, blended etc.

Whiskey stems from the Scottish Gaelic word ‘uisge beatha’ literally meaning “water of life”.  Then English mispronunciation turned ‘uisge’ into ‘usky’ which later became whiskey, or whisky, in Scotland. 

The waterfall is the water source for Glengoyne Distillery, although now they also pump extra water in

Glengoyne is the lowest distillery still considered a highland whiskey. They make it in the highlands, and then 30 metres across the road in the lowlands they let it age. Back in the day, the government introduced the Wash Act to encourage legal distilling in the highlands by giving them lower duty rates and thus defining the ‘Highland line’, single malt whiskeys in Scotland are still catergorised using the Highland line.

My favourite part is the Angel’s share which is the evaporation of the whiskey from the oak barrels.  They say that about 2% of the whiskey in each oak barrel is lost through evaporation every year, which amounts to about 150 million bottles per year across Scotland. The Scots call this ‘The Angel’s Share’ and believe that in return the angels give them rain to make more whiskey.  

So from the distillery we made our way back to Edinburgh...

We thought Leslie Rose had redeemed herself from the cruise incident until Tuck and Carli noticed that she had started to follow the signs to Glasgow, not Edinburgh.  And then a little later we were following a bus heading to Glasgow, not Edinburgh.  A little later on, Leslie Rose pulled over, took out the map and started muttering.  After a while she said something about a tricky slip road and twenty minutes late she found the correct direction at least.  And we got to see the same castle 5 times from many different angles.