travel tales



Such a fun time in Argyll today. The early cloud cover burned away so, by the time we arrived at Kilmartin glen it was brèagha!

I must admit, I was a smidge disappointed by the valley. I had been led (perhaps by my own, fevered imagination) to expect a landscape bristling with megaliths.  In fact there are just a handful of visible sites.  Much of the archeology is more subtle than I had imagined. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful place and we had a fine time.

On the way back we stopped at Dunadd fort.  This was the capital of the first Scots kingdom, Dál Riata.


Apparently a king of Dál Riata would place his foot into this hollow in the rock, thereby demonstrating his oneness with the land… or something.  Of the 3 persons on the hill today mine was the only foot to fit the hollow.  So, obviously, I declared myself King of Scots.

A certain of my subjects suggested that, as a person of the female variety, I could not be king!  I at once pronounced him a treasonous blackguard and ordered him dispatched by one of the messy but effective methods beloved of my forebears.  Just in time I realised he was my ride home and granted his reprieve.


Lastly, we returned to Inveraray where we had spied the sublime Vital Spark on our outward journey.  On arrival we stopped only to take sustenance (in the form of a mighty fine fish tea) before wandering round to the shores of Loch Fyne to view the boat where she was moored.

So enamoured was I by the ship (and by Teo’s impersonation of her captain, Para Handy) I was compelled to purchase a copy of Neil Monro’s stories: “There iss not a finer nor a faster vessel than the Fital Spark in the tred; she iss chust sublime” as Para Handy would say.


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