August 24, 2013 by kisane72

Ireland Files 2. Causeway Coast

CAUSEWAY COAST

Leaving Belfast behind and with more than a little trepidation I picked up a hire car to embark on my driving Ireland adventure. I haven’t driven in about 4 months and was fearful I’d forgotten. Be afraid Ireland, be very afraid! At least it is on same side of the road here. Definitely more than a bit rusty, I survived my first outing, a short drive from Belfast to Larne to meet my friend from Scotland who came with me the weekend.

Larne is one of the ports the ferries from Scotland arrive in. Roadworks made the drive less fun and I was seriously bamboozled by the fact that my car’s speedometer is in kilometres and the road signs are in miles! The first thing I did when I stopped was download a conversion app on my phone as I had no idea how fast I was driving. Long live the app! Am seriously hoping that the other drivers weren’t idiots and by choosing to keep speed with them I’ve hopefully avoided a ticket. I guess I’ll find out when I drop the car back.

The drive from Larne along the Causeway Coast is, I learned by that wondrous font of information that is the Internet, one of the top 5 drives of the world. I would have to concur. It sure is achingly beautiful. The road winds directly along the coast and there are loads of picturesque towns to stop in along the way. Ireland is in fact emerald. It’s true! When the sun shines down on the green fields it really and truly glows emerald. Magic.

CARRICK A REDE BRIDGE

A rope bridge used by fisherman for years and now governed by the National Trust. The weather was good and the rope bridge was much sturdier than the hype had led me to believe. Not even a bit scary. The crowds were plentiful but we managed to cross before the horde became too large. The scenery here is some of the most beautiful I’ve seen anywhere. Steep white cliffs, emerald green grass, crystal clear aqua blue water and the weather was glorious.

THE GIANTS CAUSEWAY

Finn, Finn McCool that it is. This world heritage sight is spectacular. Another day in my travels when a thesaurus is inadequate to describe the beauty. The fantastical rock formations are woven into the legend of Finn McCool. I chose not to discover the actual scientific explanation for this incredible place as the legend is much more fun. If I had managed to make the ocean tour at the Isle of Mull a while back I would have been at the other end of this rock formation that heads through the sea all the way to Scotland. Amazing!

Hmmm, what shall I wish for……

Feeling on top of things

THE DARK HEDGES

I first saw a picture of these trees in a tourist brochure. It made me do one of those horticultural gasps common to us hortis. GASP! I just had to go. A little way inland in Ballymoney off the Causeway Coast in a wee side lane. (I hereby reserve the right to start the local idiom “wee” freely and often. It really does describe something better than the word small!)

The hedges are not easy to find as there are no signs, but find it we did with the help of some locals. Best enjoyed at dusk it is beautiful at any time of day. These old gnarled Beech trees, Fagus sylvatica, with limbs intertwining across the lane have a spooky legend attached. The grey lady is said to appear at dusk and wander amongst the hedges. Okay, so the trees are too big and spacious to be called what we currently define as a hedge but the name fits. I was one happy horti. I hugged a couple, climbed one and even busted out a couple of cartwheels. It’s been a while! The only thing I didn’t enjoy was the evidence of the persistent need for people to mark their territory by carving into trees. Makes me cross!

I know, I know I’m smiling, I was having an awesome day, but it does upset me.

PORTRUSH

A little further up the road is this great little seaside town full of packed restaurants and pubs. We headed downtown for an evening of dinner and dancing. Make that dinner, dancing and getting absolutely smashed on way too much beer and scotch. Oh the day after remorse. No photo evidence thank god!

NEXT STOP DERRY

But first a few more pretties…..

A huggable rock formation

Beech tree love

August 23, 2013 by kisane72

Ireland Files 1. Brilliant Bloody Belfast

Belfast!

Ireland has a lot to live up to after the Scotland experience and my first impressions weren’t too hot. It started pissing down with rain the second I disembarked. My taxi driver quickly redeemed the country with an hilarious drive to my accom. Spirits plummeted again quickly when my new host greeted me with a miserable look and cursorily showed me my new digs. I think she was a wee bit unhappy with her lot in life. The house was littered with dusty yet effusive Thank you cards from former occupants enthusing about the generous nature of said hosts? Perhaps I just caught her on a bad day or perhaps she just didn’t like the look of me. It’s been known to happen.

Blessedly I only had the one night booked with Mrs Sweetness and Light and landed the next morning on the doorstop of a woman who put her to shame. A warm Irish welcome was extended to me as the door flew open and I was bustled into the kitchen, offered a cup of tea and even a pancake all at a hundred miles an hour. I left the house with an Irish song in my heart and a jig in my step as I headed out to meet Belfast.

Belfast has one of the best tourist information centres I’ve ever been. I left literally laden down with maps and guide books for both parts of this still torn country. They are a very giving people. Humorously, the north and south of Ireland are represented by two separate counters on opposite sides of the room. And never the twain shall meet!

On my own again I opt for the bus tour complete with likeable live guides. I missed a bus and the boss personally drove me to the Titanic museum so I got there in time for my tour. Now that’s service.

The Titanic museum is brilliant. I had low expectations and was happy to be disproved. Firstly the location down on the docks where it was actually built, a semi desolate industrial region, and secondly the architecture of the building, together really capture the legend. But its story is not just about the Titanic, its story is the story of Belfast and her people. The lives and times (and deaths) of the linen, rope and industrial trades. The whole tour was fascinating and suitable for the kiddies too as it had some really great interactive features. I left a little overwhelmed and emotional.

THE TROUBLES

The next part of the tour took me through the sites of “the troubles”. Apparently the times are more peaceful but it still looks very much like a war zone to me. Finding myself largely ignorant of current affairs in these parts I was truly shocked to find that the divided sides still live separated by a fence worthy of a detention centre that is closed at night at curfew by formidable yellow gates.

The fence or “peace wall” has as its only redeeming feature the incredible artwork and graffiti it has inspired. The drive around the area is a real eye opener with the British Protestant flags flying on every available space and the Irish Catholic side being largely devoid of any kind of decoration. Both sides have incredible murals and memorials dedicated to their dead.

The streets are littered with evidence of past and current strife; vacant lots, debris, piles of ash and broken windows. It probably doesn’t help that they all packed like sardines into tiny miserable tenement housing. The court house is a burnt out ruin, the police stations are veritable fortresses and the police cars look like tanks. A sad sad place. God bless Australia.

PUBS

I’ve been travelling alone for a while now and mostly comfortable wandering into pubs alone. The first pub in the suburbs was my only cold experience. They’d nought be used to the female folk in there.

After that I stuck to the pubs in the city centre. Garricks, Morningstar (which had a female Aussie publican) and the John Hewitt. Sadly I missed the pub with McNasty in the name, I can only imagine. Sounds like my kind of place. Everyone everywhere was super chatty and it was difficult to have a quiet ale without making a friend. I made a few. As I do.

BELFAST CASTLE

Belfast has a castle, sort of, it is really more of a house, but it does command a fantastic view of the city. My impression is that these days it is mostly used as a wedding venue. The pub and restaurant has cold beer and good food so I was happy.

The gardens are small but lovely and have employed a really neat trick. Around the garden are nine cats in different forms and the task for visitors is to hunt them out. Young and old alike readily embark on the quest. I’m ashamed to say I only found 6. I didn’t look at the chairs and apparently that is where they are to be found. Doh! The garden also has a sign saying no dogs allowed.

Pussy 1

Pussy 2

Pussy 3

The result is genius in its simplicity as it forces people to really look at the garden. To my nerdy horticultural delight as I watched them hunt, the people stopped and noticed flowers and leaves and other features of the garden. Clever.

Pussy more

WATERWORKS

The former waterworks, and still going by that name today, is a fantastic green space out in the suburbs. Fantastic area with water (obviously), bird life, walking tracks, kids play ground and for the couple of days I resided near it, it was obviously in constant use. Without it would be a bleak part of town indeed.

BOTANIC GARDENS

Botanic gardens is a term I use here very loosely. It really is more of a park with a glasshouse and some flower beds. The glasshouse is reputedly the first of its kind in the UK. Good for them but it doesn’t seem to have changed much since. The plants inside are all in pots and whilst exotic to these parts it just look like my shade house in the nursery back in Australia. There is a nice rose garden and other flower beds but nothing special.

Inside the park is the Ulster Museum which has some wonderful examples of Irish painters and a powerful exhibition on “The Troubles“. In between was a lot of educational, historical and scientific exhibits full of happy noisy kids that I sped through. The Troubles is the final exhibit and left me feeling down. So much anger, violence and death. Off to the pub! A pint will cure what ails me.

I got caught in a drenching shower and got absolutely soaked. Belfast has plenty to see but the rain got the better of me and I headed back to my cosy temporary Irish home to catch up on my blogging. Only a lot late! My week or so in Scotland turned into about 27 days and blogging requires the convergence of time, inspiration, inclination and reliable wifi. It never happened until I left. A very distracting country.

WHAT I MISSED
Live music. At night the city centre seems to shut right down and despite how bright it still is I never felt comfortable wandering around on my own so I missed the night life on offer. Bummer. It’s meant to be grand.

THE MAC, their brand new arts venue and all the cathedrals.

THE CHURCHES
I felt a bit loath to visit any churches considering all the troubles over religion and state.

NEXT STOP Giants Causeway and Derry

A few more pretties and not so pretties

Former court house. Justice is missing her scales

One last pussy!

August 15, 2013 by kisane72

Sunny Scotland – Part 5 Ayr

AYR

Leaving bleak Glasgow behind I made the short journey to this little coastal town. Under orders my first stop was the Tam o Shanter pub where the locals quickly befriended me.

Ayr is a great town but also a strange town. Great location by the sea and close to a big city, part posh and part bogan. My apologies here to any non Aussie. Translation for bogan:- the great unwashed, trailer trash, white trash and so forth. The town has hit hard times and many shops are closed and there seems to be more discount shops than anywhere else I’ve been. However a good look around town unearths some great little gems trying hard and making it work. It’s a great place and I hope it turns its fortunes around. It has a “beach” too. Apparently you only throw your children in it to punish them. I wish I could take credit for that joke. Full credit goes to John McLachlan. I spent an hilarious hour there people watching. They were unfamiliar with sand and though on the beach were in a constant battle to keep it off their person.

The “beach” with Arran in the distance

From Ayr you can do a day trip to Arran Island for which I sadly did not have time for. Arran is said to be the entire of Scotland in miniature. All the features of the highlands, heaths and lochs are represented. If desperate to do Scotland and lacking in time do Arran!

ROBERT BURNS

Ayr is the home of Scotland’s best loved and most romantic of poets, Robert Burns. Everybody knows Auld Lang Syne but I was completely ignorant of its origin and the life and times of this poet. I was really pleased to meet him. What a guy. I’m now a proud owner of his works. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard the Red Red Rose recited to you in a Scottish brogue. Reduces heard hearted girls like me to kittens. In Ayr you can visit his cottage, a museum devoted to him and the ruins of the church, graveyard and bridge that features in one of his very specials poems, The Tam o Shanter.

AYR RACES

Before I left town I had one big treat ahead of me. Oh the glitz, the glamour, the kilts and so much mutton dressed up as lamb! And last but by no means least the “Take That” tribute band. The whole day falls into the category of things that can’t be unseen. And I had a blast! Somehow I’ve managed to get through life without attending the races. Not being a fan of dresses and heels and my complete refusal to wear the aforementioned hasn’t helped. So dressed in tights (I wish I’d had jodhpurs) and knee high boots, off I went. To be honest I felt a bit smug as all the girls ended up shoes off by the end of the day.

The Ayr races is THE big event of their social calendar and couples impending marriages are celebrated with more mutton like hen parties gaudily parading around. I know I just mixed metaphors with chicken and lamb but you’d understand if you were there. One hen had a card asking us to vote whether she was gorgeous or a complete minger. The kindest lie ever told. In saying that, the mutton, chicken, and kilts were all friendly and fun. Another awesome day.

My favourite outfit of the day!

Another lovely idyllic little coastal village close to Ayr

I got really lucky and came across a wedding at the Brig A Doon. The men look awesome, the woman look like mutton (and chicken!)

And so my time in Bonnie Scotland has come to its end and I’m moving on. I love this friendly funny beautiful land and am sad to leave her. Ireland has a lot or live up to.

The view on my last night there.

NEXT STOP IRELAND

But here’s a little more Robert Burns

Oh, my luve’s like a red red rose, that’s newly sprung in June.
Oh, my luve’s like the melodie, that’s sweetly played in tune.

August 15, 2013 by kisane72

Un-Sunny Scotland – Part 4 Fort William

WARNING
The following contains material that may offend some readers. Namely, that I’m having a bit fat pathetic crybaby whinge.

A couple of hours up the road from Oban lies Fort William. The bus ride there was another truly beautiful experience. Glistening lochs, ruined castles, sheep, cows, all picture postcard perfect.

Fort William is the home of the Harry Potter experience, a ride on the Jacobite steam train. Besides the fun factor of being on a proper steam train, the route has spectacular scenery. However by the time I got there the weather had finally completely turned all shite and Scottish on me and as I watched the train fill with loads of over excited children I realised travel fatigue had well and truly descended on me and I couldn’t care less about getting on that bleeding train.

The Jacobite passing Neptune’s Staircase

I was instead excited about my hotel because it said it had a view of the mountain Ben Nevis and free wifi. It was cloudy so the mount was invisible but in any case MY room had a lovely view of the car park and rusty stairwell through my cracked window. (Yet another joy of being the single traveller, we get the crappest rooms with the crappest views. There’s only one of us to complain).

Idyllic

To complete my misery the wifi did not work in the rooms! So instead of holing up in my rooms like I planned to look for my next series of accommodation, I was relegated to the lobby once again. The conspicuous solo traveller in the room that people feel compelled to pity and be kind to. I know they are just being nice but this day it’s exhausting. I’ve finally cracked! This day I’m burnt out, I’m sick of travelling and constantly being on the hunt for accommodation. I’ve had the same polite conversation over and over again in every hotel and I’m officially over it. I’ll get over it, but this is my low day and I fully intend to wallow in it. Whinge over!

The hotel’s one redeeming feature was that it had a pool, spa, sauna and gym and so I head there with my best leave me alone look on my face. Didn’t work out, apparently I suck at that. Apparently talking to people is what I do. Turned out to be a very happy adventure after all.

After a dip in the pool I manage to get the spa to myself and am enjoying a quiet bubble when a bloke with a big bloody grin on his face joins me. Despite my miserable determination I find myself dragged out of my sorry mood and after a most enjoyable chat got the inspiration for another destination in Scotland I hadn’t considered. Ayr.

Before I leave Fort William I head to Neptune’s Staircase. This fascinating system of moving boats up or down an interconnecting system of locks to or from the Caledonian Canal to Loch Linnhe blew me away.

I never did get to see Ben Nevis.

After Fort William I head back to Oban for two nights to eat more seafood, drink more beer and little else before heading to Glasgow.

Glasgow didn’t make much of an impression on me. Just another city like any other city and a bit bleak. But then I did not have a tour guide interested in the same things as me. Namely the pubs! I spent an entire day wandering the city and I did find a pub called Lebowskis where the people were friendly and fun. I did a quick trip into their botanic gardens which were nice but unremarkable. Like most places in the UK, nearly everything interesting is grown in glasshouse. Could use a bit of a facelift. Of course I was there when the flowering of all the good things had finished. I’ve said it before and Im sure I’ll say it again – it’ll be alright for the next group!

NEXT STOP AYR

August 15, 2013 by kisane72

Sunny Scotland – Part 3 Mulling it over in Mull & Oban

Isle of Mull

In my neck of the woods there is a green weed popularly smoked that goes by the name of mull. That is not why I went there and all the locals were amused when I told them.

Booking online is always a risky business and it was with some trepidation I booked one with Hotel & Spa in the title. I’m so glad I did. I just wish I’d been able to stay longer and I wish I wish I wish I’d got a room facing the water. After a long sweaty travel day from Edinburgh involving two trains to Glasgow and Oban followed by a ferry ride I headed straight for the pool. Loads of chlorine and only 1.2m deep but undercover and with an unbeatable view of the water. Then I discover the sauna, steam room, hot & cold foot spas and finally an outdoor bubbling warm spa. And joy of joys a lovely Kiwi with a talent for Swedish massage. I am one happy horti and plan to not leave the premises for my entire stay.

Gloaming – my new favourite word. Sunset on Mull falls into the indescribably beautiful category. The days are long and it takes hours for the sun to set. That is when the gloaming is. It’s the quality of the light that is so extraordinary. I never realised gold had so many shades. The view from my hotel over the water toward a lighthouse and a castle gives the evening gloaming light a chance to strut it stuff. Unfortunately it is impossible to be outside because of the insatiable ravenous clouds of blood thirsty midges.

I’m looking for silence after travelling non stop with company for weeks but I don’t find it here. My room is too small to spend time in and the internet doesn’t work there so the common areas with the views are the only place to be. Me being me I have to smile, say hi, help someone and invariably I ended up in some very long chats. One lady insisted on sharing her bottle of wine with me! I hate that! Not. Single travellers evoke a kind of pity in others. I’m happily reading my book over dinner or tinkering on my iPad and others are constantly checking on my well being. Are you alright? Do you need anything? And so forth. It is my own damn fault of course. Little miss have a chat. I need to cultivate me one of those city, don’t talk to me, don’t mess with me looks. Instead I risk the midges for a walk by the water.

Seaside daisies

Tobermory day trip.
A rainy misty day dawned for my last day on the island. After succeeding at making good use of the facilities and finally some proper Scottish weather, I figured I should see something. Sundays are as weird here as they are in Rome and its difficult to book tours and get around the island as the public transport is limited on that day. So I did the one thing possible that got me back in time to catch the ferry back to the mainland. A bus ride to Tobermory in the north of the island. Just getting on the bus is an adventure as the driver with a completely straight face tells me it is 15 pounds each way. It is in fact 10 pounds return. I call him a cheeky sod and he tells me he does it to make sure he’s alive. Fair enough. I discover too late to sit on the right side of the bus on the way there and left on the way back to enjoy the best views of the sea. It is magic.

Mull is one of those little places with a lot going on if only I had a car. There are buses but they run only every 2 hours and lack the option of being able to stop and look at something just for the hell of it. The buses that do run are synchronised with the mainland ferry and go either north to Tobermory or south to Fionnphort. Try pronouncing that! From Fionnphort one can access the Isle of Iona that has an old abbey and more beautiful scenery. Isle of Iona I will be back some day.

It sure ain’t no Burano in Venice but colourful houses are Tobermory’s best feature. From here one can do a multitude of ocean and wildlife tours but not for me today. It’s drizzling so instead I enjoy a wander through all the local stores happily selling all their locally made wares. I of course enjoy some time at the local pub and down some of their local scallops with a pint of Aussie Fosters. The Fosters ruins it. The most ridiculous thing in Scotland is trying to get a cold beer out of a tap. Of the ten or so on offer at most pubs there is usually only a couple that are actually cold. The rest are “cellar cold”. It’s just not cricket! In this pub Fosters is the only cold one here. I can’t believe I’m in remote Scotland on an island drinking bloody Fosters. The Aussie theme continues as I have an Australian merlot on the ferry ride back to Oban. It is actually good so I’ll pay that one.

OBAN

Sad to leave the spa life behind I head to Oban, just 45 minutes on the ferry. This seemed to be hands down Scotland’s most popular holiday destination and trying to get accommodation was like finding rocking horse teeth. I couldn’t agree more. I liked this town so much I ended up staying here twice. The absolute must thing to do in Oban is to eat freshly cooked seafood out of the little shack just off the ferry. Not the one further down with the proper tables!! Freshly caught cooked prawns, mussels, scallops, lobster and all outrageously cheap. All that’s missing is a cold pint. I went every single day for lunch and the most it set me back was 5 pounds. Brilliant.

A few days before on the way to Oban and Mull I met an Irishman who owned the local Irish pub (as they do). Needless to say I ended up spending most nights in his little bar popular with the locals and backpackers. Open mic night is a worth a look in. Rollicking good fun.

I never completely understood why the Viking but it was huggable.

I didn’t see nearly as much of Oban as I would have liked as I was forced to waste most of my time there on the internet trying to find my next lot of accommodation, but it is just a friendly little town by the sea complete with a castle, distillery, loads of shops, food, pubs and beautiful views.

NEXT STOP FORT WILLIAM

August 15, 2013 by kisane72

Sunny Scotland – Part 2. Skye times

Break out the Thesaurus we’re headed to the Isle of Skye!

But first we have to get there.

My dear friends that I’m travelling with very sensibly hire a car to travel to the exotic Isle of Skye. As per usual I have done no research so have absolutely no idea and no expectations. I am so unprepared for the awesomeness to come.

Sterling Wallace Monument and sterling blue skies

The drive there alone is sublime. Rolling green countryside and idyllic loch after loch. After every bend there lies a Kodak moment and the sunshine continues.

Foxgloves grow wild by the side of the road

At the Kyle of Lochalsh we cross into gods own country, The Isle of Skye. There really are no words. We wore out our collective internal thesaurus just trying to describe it. Sweeping, grand, beautiful, awesome, majestic, austere, stop it and get out! Nothing cuts it.

Cuillin Hills

Skye is a mountainous island with bald volcanic peaks, emerald green fields, glistening blue lochs, woolly sheep, outrageously cute highland cows and disconcertingly free of trees. What trees there are tend to be in clusters. I later read somewhere that most of the trees were cut down ages ago so that bandits would have nowhere to hide. It doesn’t explain why they have not regrown.

The barrenness of the landscape invokes a surprising kind of peace in me and I yearn to spend some time here on my own. I’ve developed a romantic idyll in my mind of renting a white stucco shack in a peaty field by a loch for a couple of weeks where my only human contact is with a taciturn local farmer, complete with stereotypical pipe between teeth, that pops in once a week in to deliver me some local produce, fresh oysters, Talliskers Whiskey and then leaves me be. Och aye lassie.

Anyway back to reality. The drive is longer than anticipated and we arrive very late and have overindulged in lollies (to keep our strength up) during our drive. We arrive late at night and are all hopped up on sugar. We are staying in the magnificent Viewfield House, an old manor and are greeted at this historical location by walls sporting mounted and stuffed dead animals and manned by a crazy Irishman. Not what I was expecting at all. Much hilariousness ensued as our sugar fuelled addled minds met head on with said Irishman. One of my dear friends kept interrupting him as he attempted to describe the features of the hotel so he locked her in a cupboard. I just knew I was going to like this place!

Our room was a palace the size of at least a couple of standard rooms with stunning antique furniture and wallpaper. Then there was the bathroom! Wall to wall carpet, shower, antique bath and enormous. We even had a nice view from the throne as it were! The other guests are hilarious. Serious English on mini breaks that fail to see the humour in their surroundings. Even being especially quiet we are too loud for this place. Surreally, one morning we wake to two blokes playing the bag pipes outside our window. If they had been wearing kilts they would have won our hearts. Not!

Dunvegan Castle

I remain to fail to be impressed by the British castles. This estate on the west of the island has as its claim to fame a scrap of cloth on the wall known as the Fairy Flag. Has got Shroud of Turin written all over it.

Happily here at least they have a very special garden. Typically English in that it is divided into different rooms. I especially enjoyed the water gardens as they had a natural wild nature. They had some beautiful stand out specimens of Mahonia, drop dead gorgeous fragrant philadelphus, giant gunnera, and the spiky sea holly eryngium maritinum. My first encounter with Sea Holly had me mistakenly thinking it was some kind of thistle. The blue violet purple tones are just extraordinary. I have no idea whether we can grow it at home. Probably in Tassie!

Sea holly

Heather – Erica sp

Fragrant Philadelphus

Dunvegan seal trip

This topped off a great day. At the foot of the castle gardens we got ourselves onto a little motor boat and had a cruise around the loch. Our worthy vessel set sail and then promptly died! We were only 50 metres or so from shore but I didn’t fancy a swim. We managed to limp back into shore and waited while our skipper rustled up another boat. Off again, this man of few words gave us an extra long tour around the loch. The entire commentary consisted of “there’s a seal”, “that be a tern”. The seals were plentiful and either posing for the camera or playing all hard to get. A blissful, idyllic hour out.

She’s a lady! Maybe.

Faerie Pools

I might no believe in the Fairy Flag but I believe in these delicious pools in the Cuillin Hills. Still blessed by the extraordinary sunshine we head to these famous pools for a wee dip. So has half of Scotland. A walk across the springy Heath leads leads to the pools. I’ve never walked on springy soil before and it remains one of my favourite experiences. An ergonomic and organic sensation bouncing across soil that gives and receives. I felt like Tigger. Bouncy!

The other tourists are hilarious as they go in fully suited up in steamers and booties. We shame them by just going in our bathers. Bunch of pansies. It wasn’t that cold!

See, I’m smiling. Not that cold!

It is impossible to drive around the Isle of Skye without finding somewhere awesome.

Up the road from the Tallsikers Whisky Distillery is an oyster shack where a lovely bloke shucks fresh oysters all day and sells them for 90p. I spent about ten pounds there! Mmm oysters and mussels and crab and cheese and lots of yummy things. All that was missing was an icy cold pint.

The Armadale port where you can catch the ferry to Mallaig is worth a visit ferry or not. Great coffee and really cool shops. Grumpy George run by George who is the exact opposite of his title and Ragamuffin with high quality hippy sheik, cotton, woollens. I could have spent hours in that treasure trove. Not cheap but awesome.

Yet another awesome view from the edge of Skye

Apparently there be otters down there. I’m pretty sure I saw a seal!

That’ll do instead.

Leaving the Isle of Mull we did a little side trip to Plockton, the home of Hamish MacBeth. Was pretty but underwhelming. But I did get to see some more of these on the way.

Hairy Highland Cow. It doesn’t get much cuter. How I’d like to hug one!

Next stop Isle of Mull and Oban

August 15, 2013 by kisane72

Sunny Scotland – Part 1 Edinburgh

Sunny Scotland. Two words one doesn’t usually hear together unless being used as oxymoron. I kid you not it was all sunshine and skittles.

Yep. That is Scottish sunshine and blue skies.

I arrived in Edinburgh on the sleeper train from Euston London. It was an experience. A little known fact, even to me, is that I am a tad claustrophobic. I took a un-calculated risk and booked a cabin where there was a chance I’d have a female stranger as a roomie. Am so glad said stranger never materialised because it could have got ugly.

The door was so narrow I could barely get my bag in the door and once I did there wasn’t really anywhere to put it. I knew the cabin would be small but I erroneously assumed it would have its own toilet. Oh no. Communal toilets at the end of the carriage. Showers? Of course not. It did have a fold away sink where I performed an unsatisfying sponge bath. The first thing I did after shoving the bag through the door was leave the room. I then interrogated our fabulous hostess with the mostest cabin attendant about the likeliness of my sharing a room. At this point I was prepared to pay anything to make sure that didn’t happen. Her soft Scottish brogue calmed my nerves and I thought that at least with her around all would indeed be will. And it was.

But you all know where I headed to enhance my sense of well being. Ahh the dining car. However my alcoholic haven was having its own problems. A power outage meant that a very stressed staff member was having a very bad night. No power meant the fridge, freezer, microwave and stove were all out of order. Thankfully I’m accustomed to whiskey without ice. Two drams later and cheerfully sozzled I went off to a blissful and too short sleep in my little cabin. Once installed in bed I was cosy and lulled to sleep by the gentle clickety clack. I’m determined to do it again sometime, make sure I have my own room and get an early night!

Funny Farm

Edinburgh came all too soon. 6 am to be exact, where our darling Scottish angel awoke me with a coffee. Bless her tartan socks. Half an hour later I have a sneaking suspicion that i’m going to like it here and that Scotland may in fact be the friendliest country on earth, full of funny and amiable people.

My next encounter was with the man in the train station who I asked for advice about train travel around Scotland. He loaded me up with timetables and brochures one by one and then proceeded to take them all back one by one just for the hell of it. Reminds me of me!

Edinburgh

The only thing I knew about Edinburgh was that it had a castle in the middle of the city. I expected a city with tall buildings like every other city and was most pleasantly wrong. The castle is indeed in the middle and above the city but all the buildings are fairly low. The streets are wide and spacious and full of more friendly funny people. It’s just one humorous encounter after another. Local bus tour is highly recommended. Get one with a live guide. Fecking hilarious.

Edinburgh Castle and Scotch Thistle. Doesn’t get much more Scottish than that!

The castle sadly bored me stupid. It was more than a bit tacky. Some of the rooms were nice but after being to the Alhambra in Spain it just isn’t that impressive. If you like armour there is a pretty good display. But the really disappointing aspect was the crappy life size dioramas on the way to view the Crown of Jewels. I remarked that it was like Disneyland. Apparently Disneyland is better!

Thankfully I found something to hug.

Castle aside I really liked Edinburgh. It has a vibe about it. Especially the old town and Grassmarket. Cool bars and hip stores. The queens castle Holyroodhouse (best name ever for a Palace) is there too but I’m all castled out. We did a laid back but enjoyable boat ride around the Firth of Forth where we saw some seals. I missed the botanic garden. Some horti I am!

Seals in the Firth of Forth

Flower clock

Full Scottish breakfast. Yes I ate haggis. It was delicious!

Never short of something to hug.

Next stop Isle of Skye

May 27, 2013 by kisane72

Lovely Jubbly London

Allo allo from London. Warning. The following post is about plants, plants and nothing but plants. No booze, no food, nothing. Out of character I know. It’s also a very long post as I’ve been suffering from bloggers block so the following is my whole week in London.

I’ve just been in Zurich, Switzerland for four nights visiting my ballerina niece and am in London for a purely horticultural side trip. I’m going back to Zurich in a day or so and will reserve judgement mostly until then.
In the meantime first impressions are:-
1. Holy crap so expensive, especially after Spain. I started to miss Barcelona. It is impossible to eat cheap there.
2. So clean it is almost sterile, again especially after Spain. It’s all very pretty but all a bit too nice.
3. It is the home of Lindt Chocolate so all is forgiven.

My little excursion to London is to visit the Chelsea Flower and Garden and meet up with some fellow Australian hortis. It’s a bit of a treat to be in an English speaking country again. Ask a question, get an answer. Easy.

My first adventure was to get out to the Cotswolds to meet said Aussies visiting gardens. A lovely man at the transport tourist info office went above and beyond the call of duty to help me get there. When travelling those information centres are your best friend. If only I had taken all his advice. He told me I would need to get a cab from the train station to the first garden and perhaps I should call one to organise before. I thought it would be OK to just pick up one at the station. It wasn’t.

An idiot abroad once more, the day didn’t start so well when I tripped up the steps of the train station in my rush to get to the platform. After a nearly two hour lovely jubbly train ride from London I arrive at Honeybourne to discover it is a one horse town in the middle of nowhere. There weren’t exactly cabs lined up. My phone with an english sim card that has worked everywhere else so far on my travels had no reception here so my attempts to call a cab were unsuccessful and I was starting to get worried. Luckily a nice man came along and saved the day by letting me use his phone. There is one local cab driver in Honeybourne, all the rest come from other towns. Thankfully the local guy was free.

HIDCOTE & KIFTSGATE GARDENS, THE COTSWOLDS ENGLAND
The reason I had come all this way was to meet my mate Angus Stewart, his daughter Daisy and their group of thirty or so Australians doing a garden tour of France and England. Obviously I’m catching them on their English leg to view these two beautiful gardens. I’m having the same problem here that I’ve had earlier in my travels. Whilst there are many things in flower, the extended winter means that spring is still a little late in coming and many of the plants are just teasing us with their buds. It is bloody icy cold, the black frock coat is back on but at least it isn’t raining. Both gardens are set against the backdrop of old manor houses in the beautiful country area of the Cotswolds.

A very tiny Angus Stewart in the distance

Hidcote is managed by the National Trust and is a fine example of both a formal and wild english garden. Divided into different garden rooms it is easy to get lost here on the large sweeping grounds. I don’t think I managed to see it all. I lied earlier when I said the post didn’t include any food or booze. I did manage to squeeze in a lovely lunch of home cooked chicken casserole washed down with a glass of french wine at their cafe.

This beautiful sculpture is accompanied by a gorgeous little plant called Smilacina racemosa, False Solomon’s Seal

Kiftsgate is a privately owned and managed garden. Set on a slope, this garden again mixes the formal with the wild. Famous for its Kiftsgate Rose, reportedly the biggest rose plant in the world. Not in flower OF COURSE it just looks like a big weed that needs a good hit with the brushcutter. Sacrilege I know, I should wash my mouth out with soap. A highlight is the bluebell walk. As a woman I particularly like this garden as it exists because of the continuum of three generations of women from the same family. Go girl power.

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Me playing silly buggers as usual in front of this beautiful pond and sculpture

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Daisy looking beautiful as usual

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Kiftsgate Rose – see it does look like a weed.

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The bluebell walk

CHELSEA FLOWER & GARDEN SHOW
So now to the main reason for my side trip to London which was to attend this legendary show. For all the planning I did for this trip, the one thing I didn’t have was a ticket to the show because Angus assured me he could get me one. Turned out to be not so easy. The show was sold out and I was sadly tramping the streets of Chelsea on the day waiting for some good news. Various plans were hatched which included one as me posing as a tour guide but finally by lunch time he had triumphed and I was in with a real ticket!!! Phew. Nice work Angus.

Phillip Johnson’s Best in Show garden

The magnificent sculpture is the first thing I see as I enter the gates of the show. We are lucky to be allowed in the garden to have a tour. Phil has created such beauty here. There is a great clip on his facebook page showing the evolutionary work of the garden that is worth a look. The sight of so many Australian plants absolutely thriving is good for my little Aussie horticultural soul. Just the size of the palette of plants he painted this landscape with is awesome. I wrongly assumed the plants were brought in from Australia. They were in fact sourced from all over Europe. To my surprise I discover the sculpture is also an artists studio reached by climbing a winding staircase. The view from inside is inspired. To boot Phillip is a lovely genuine person. Obviously exhausted, reeling from his success and despite the demands on his time for interviews and the like, he still takes the time to meet us and have a chat. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke.

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The view from the inside
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Angus Stewart & Phillip Johnson – feeling the love

The Chelsea is huge!! Much much bigger than the recent Melbourne show, I’m embarrassed for that show after coming here. The organisers of that show really need to come and do a field trip here. This place is absolutely bustling with both stands and the public. The standard of the show and artisan gardens is brilliant. There is so much innovation here. I could use a couple of days here to really see it all but I feel lucky to be here at all. It was difficult to get decent photos of the displays for the crowds.

This is an entire apple tree – roots and all!

Lovely Lupins

The one ring to rule them all

And how does one refresh oneself at the Chelsea? With some PIMMS of course. Angus and I didn’t drink the whole jug ourselves, we had some help from his two gorgeous daughters.

KEW GARDENS
No horti trip to London is complete without the obligatory visit to Kew Gardens. Another day another queue but I’m prepared, I’ve brought a book. I read a couple of chapters before I got in.

I’m happy to report that this is now one of my favourite places in the whole wide world. I am staggered by these gardens. The sheer size alone is impressive – 326 acres! I confess to wanting to come here ever since I saw a David Attenborough special filmed on location and it has exceeded my expectations. It is a long weekend here so most of the population of London are here but the immensity of the gardens means that they disperse into the grounds without it ever feeling crowded.

The first place I head is the glasshouse. The warm steamy air hits me and I’m almost wishing it was a cold day instead of the unexpected warm sunshine we are having today so I could revel in it more. Lots of familiar plants from home and a bunch I’ve never seen. It was fun watching the poms get blown away by plants I take for granted like gingers and palms. A highlight is climbing up the winding metal staircase to walk amongst the tops of the palms and then to climb below to visit the aquarium.

Kew it turns out has a bunch of different glasshouses dedicated to different plant groups. The Princess of Wales is full of cacti, succulents, orchids and other tropical plants. These specimens of Medinella and a red Echium were most impressive. There is another full of temperate plants and another that looks like a space helmet devoted to alpine plants.

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Medinella magnifica
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Echium – I missed the second part of the name but I know it commonly with a purple flower as Pride of Madeira

I gave myself about four and a half hours there and it wasn’t enough. Both my feet and camera battery wore out yet there was still plenty to see. Next time I would get there at gate opening time and stay all day. There a million idyllic spots to picnic – ponds, vistas, meadows, woodlands, glades, groves, dells and last but not least by the River Thames. I just love all the terminology. We just don’t have those in Australia. There are of course a few cafes to choose from.

You can visit Kew Palace and the queens garden but there was a queue and one queue per day is my limit. It wasn’t even a long queue.You can also visit the Royal Kitchens. I had a good long think about whether I cared where they prepared their food and decided that I didn’t so I gave it a miss.

Kew Palace

Kew has an impressive commitment to education and I am fortunate to be here while they are promoting IncrEdibles, focussing obviously on edible plants but also plants used in medicine, building, clothing etc. There is as much for the kids here as the adults and many of the displays are interactive. For some reason I felt particularly drawn to these two.

At the end of the day I am both dismayed and excited to find that Kew have another 465 acres at Wakehurst in the country at West Sussex. This is where they have amongst other things the Millennium Seed Bank. The future of the planet is stored there. I’ll have to do it next time. Hopefully someone will have invented a hover board by then to save my legs.