Scotland - Day Six

Well Day 6 was quite a different day as we headed out towards the Highlands, leaving the bright lights, big city and mascara behind. But enough about the Favourite Husband.

On our list today was The Devil’s Pulpit. This is essentially a hike down to the bottom of a gorge where the water appears red due to the sandstone. The “pulpit” aspect is actually a stone rising from the water. The idea being the Devil would stand on the stone preaching whilst the water, like blood, swirls at his feet. Or is it cloven hooves? Either or. On closer research this morning it’s very, very steep. Down stone steps that are highly slippery if wet. Now, I’m a woman of a certain age. Additionally, I’m front loaded. Combine this with a fear of everything, but especially falling down steep slippery stone steps into a gorge and, well, that’s a no from me. Perhaps if it were summer, perhaps if I was 30 years younger and perhaps if I wasn’t quite so fond of my teeth; I’d have given it a go.

So off we went instead for a far more sedate option at Aberfoyle Forest, in (you guessed it) Aberfoyle. We wandered the waterfall walk and the oak coppice trail. Fairly flat, through stunning forest and we had the place to ourselves. Less than an hour out of Glasgow and we could be in a different world.

When we first started planning this trip I was obsessed with spending a night at The Drovers Inn at the top of Loch Lomond, famous for being Scotland’s most haunted hotel. Then, as I researched further, I realised I was in actual fact, delusional. Thinking I would sleep in a haunted bedroom was as likely as my being a size 8 again. Never going to happen. But I could eat there, in daylight, no problem. There are rumoured to be 2 ghosts at the Drovers Inn, Angus a drover who was hung out the back and a girl who drowned in the river behind and was laid on the bed upstairs. Guests have reported waking in the night to finding they’re in a damp patch, and nobody wants that …

The relief at our decision not to have stayed there when we saw the place was palpable. But lunch was pretty good and it was fascinating inside, full of weird taxidermy and history.

We had a bit of a “Jesus take the wheel”moment on a narrow lane, where between the stone wall and a tractor we appeared to be the meat in the sandwich, but seeing as so far the Favourite Husband hasn’t asked me to drive, I remained oddly quiet and refrained from making eye contact.

We have given the Sat Nav a name, “Miss Leading” as she often lies to us or ignores us altogether. I’d sack her, but seeing as I struggle to find my cup of tea once I’ve put it down, we’ve decided to keep her on.

Other areas of beauty and interest on our drive were Loch Lobneig and the World famous shark toilet … which sadly was closed, you can imagine my disappointment..

On our way to Oban we stopped at St Conan’s Kirk in the village of Lochawe. The Kirk is a beautiful mish mash of various architectural styles including Gothic flying buttresses (I can count on one hand the times I’ve got to say those words) and a Norman doorway. It is the side facing the loch, more than the road, that is the money piece. Stunning!

There is an old Highland proverb about St Conan. He decided to meet with the Devil face to face and sort out the fate of the souls of the people of Lorne. Quite simple really, 3 categories; “really good,” they’d go to St Conan, really bad” they’d go to the Devil and “middle” who’d be split between the two. All was going swimmingly, taking turns, until the Devil got over excited (relatable) and put his hand out to draw a name when it was St Conan’s turn and was told to basically stay in his lane. Imagine being averagely good all your life and then ending up with the Devil as you were unlucky in the "middle" pile. Unsure whether to be better or misbehave more now.

We carried on to Oban where we had a mooch around and then dinner at Ee-Usk. It was a glorious setting, great food and we finished off with a whisky chaser in the Oban Inn.

How I’ve managed to mention the Devil twice and Jesus too is a mystery and yet here we are ...