Tuesday -on to the Trossachs

   Tuesday morning we went for a boat ride on Loch Katrine. (Loch = lake)The steamship, The Sir Walter Scott, named after Scotland's favorite author and poet, has been taking visitors around since 1900. Some travelers boarded with their bikes as an option was to bike back from Stronachlachar. We opted not to do that. Mountains lined the lake, all along the way:  Ben Venue and the Goblin caves. The Scottish Alps were still all white from late spring snow. The boat spieler said that the snow melt goes down a sluice and provides water to Glasgow -- What?! An engineering marvel! It was MacGregor  country. I need to read much more history or watch more historical movies to recall all that. As sunny as it was, the wind made it  chilly even though I was wearing all three layers I brought with me. The host would warm up your coffee with "a wee dram of whisky" or spike your hot chocolate with "a measure of rum."  Just like Burglar Bill, "I'll 'ave that!."

Ben An, behind that traffic light, downtown Callander

Scotland had more daffodils abundant than Maine

Steamship Sir Walter Scott on Loch Katrine

Ben Venue (that's the name of the mountain)-Clyde is the name of the sock monkey

Scottish Alps in the way distance

sleepy in the sun, or was it the wee dram?

Our innkeeper Evelyn at the Glen Garry House had recommended "a real tea"  (i.e. not at a touristy hotel) at the Drover's Inn and Inveranan Hostel past Crianlain. On our route there, we hit Troussachs Woolen Mill and met Hamish their very famous bull.There used to be a sign at the Drover's Inn that said "Campbells not Welcome" as it is in the heart of MacDonald country in Glencoe where a bloody massacre took place and the Campbells did some not nice things to MacDonalds. Evelyn explained what the drovers did back in the day. A drover's road or droveway is a road where livestock are walked between markets or between summer and winter pastures. If a cattleman couldn't afford meat to eat, he might bleed his own cattle and make black pudding (a kind of  blood sausage) for the protein.  We did divert off our route for 6 kilometers to have a beverage there. Inside it looks like an older-than-Maine's Perry's Nut House with every manner of dusty, mangy, stuffed animal sitting on all the walls and tables.  The menu!  wow-- liver AND bacon in one entree. Haggis, Neeps and Tatties! (=haggis (=sheep liver/lung/oatmeal/suet sausage) turnips and potatoes) A nice fireplace was roaring in the bar. It was the equivalent of "Lincoln slept here." Outside we could hear the water burbling of the Kilin Falls. Thank goodness I'd acquired a taste for whisky and Judd was the only driver licensed for the car rental.

Trossachs Woolen Mill

Hamish, the Highland Coo

Drover's Inn "If it was good enough for Rob Roy...."