The Trossachs

We arrived in the southern uplands of Scotland on Friday night. We stayed in a little B&B in a little village called Thornhill. Our hosts were Leif and Hanne Gronberg. Sounds Scottish, right? The Vikings did make quite a few trips to Scotland and left their mark in more ways than one! For dinner we walked around the corner to a little cafe. Dad decided on the fish and chips while I went for the Scotch pie and chips. I have no idea what kind of meat was in my pie and perhaps it's better I don't know. It was either that or the haggis pizza. Yes, you read that right, haggis pizza. I do like haggis and I do like pizza, but together? Sorry, I'm not that adventurous! Why ruin two good dishes? The next morning Leif and Hanne served us breakfast. I opted for muesli and the vegetarian scrambled egg dish while dad practically broke out his ancestor's tartans and had the full Scottish breakfast which included haggis. I confess, I did sneak a bite. Then we began our drive north toward Kilmaronock. Supposedly, my great great great great grandmother, Janet Meickleham, was born on her family's farm called "Woodend" around 1790. Her parents were James Meickleham and Jane McOnat. James was a laird and was called Laird Meickleham. Later the family moved to "Glenfoot Farm" between Drymen and Balfron. I find it odd that they would have made such a journey since it is a good distance between Kikmaronock and the Drymen-Balfron area, perhaps there is another Kimaronock closer to Drymen, just like the other small towns we have stumbled across! We drove around Kilmaronock and the surrounding areas and then decided to continue up to the Highlands by driving along the coast. Since this part is sheltered, there are no dramatic cliffs or crashing waves but the houses that line the shore are quaint. We almost reached Port of Glasgow when we hit a massive traffic jam. Nothing was moving so we went around the roundabout and the navigator aka me quickly tried to find another road that would get us to Glasgow. As seems to be the case when I pick the roads, we ended up on a windy, hilly, narrow road. But we got to Glasgow! I really don't have anything to say about Glasgow. It's an industrial city and in my opinion, doesn't have the historical charm that Stirling or Edinburgh have. Once we got out of Glasgow we headed into our ancestors' homeland, the Scottish Highlands! We drove around for about three hours, up the glens and down the glens, looking for a place to spend the night and ended up at a little B&B in Callander run by Mary and Davie. Then we went I search of food. It was incredibly windy, so as a sign came crashing down and I noted my walking difficulties as well as the inability to keep my eyes open, I turned to my dad and said that the restaurant we had passed was good enough. What is interesting about the pubs is that they are advertising that they sell "real ales". It seems that "real ales" are British beers in contrast to foreign beers like Stella Artois or, heaven help us, Budweiser. So if you ask for a beer, you will get two choices, a real ale or a lager. Of course, as any anthropologist would probably tell you, by saying they have "real ales", they are legitimizing their brand of beer as opposed to the "other's"...like when in British news you see that the continent is isolated because of fog...get it?

Before we went to bed, Davie asked us about breakfast. He wanted to know if we had any of those "strange" diets like being a vegetarian. He looked so frightened at the prospect of cooking anything but a full Scottish breakfast that we both agreed we would have one. Davie was relieved. So, the next morning we came down to breakfast and started with cold cereal. Then Davie brought out the hot breakfast plate. I recognized everything on it except for the one big black circular haggis-like sausage looking object. We thought it might be haggis, but after tasting it, realized it wasn't. Turns out that it was blood sausage. I still ate it, although warily, and I can't say that I would voluntarily order it. 

After we washed down the blood sausage, bacon, eggs, potatoes, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast with tea, we set out to explore the Trossachs. The weather was typically Scottish, cloudy with a light misty rain. We found a trail that went along Loch Ard so off we went! It was a pretty forested trail with some nice lookouts into the valley. I could even see snow on the tops of some of the hills. There was one small path that led up a steep slope through the forest. Everything was a brilliant green, the forest floor covered in moss. It looked so mystical, I half expected to see fairies emerge from the logs and rocks, or maybe Mordu, the bear from Brave! There were also some boggy places and I almost lost my right shoe and sock. This trail really provided the chance to become one with nature, so to speak. 

As we finished our hike the rain started coming down harder so we decided to drive around to the next hike spot along Loch Katrine and wait. Well, it didn't let up so we decided to begin visiting ancestral sites, starting with the town of Aberfoyle and the MacGregors.....to be continued.

Cheers!

Elizabeth