I got up early and Bob took me to the train station in Helensburgh to catch the train from Helensburgh to Glasgow Queen St. Station and from there I took a taxi to the hotel where I was to join with the tour. I had forgotten what a steep flight of stairs there is in the station from the platform where the Helensburg train arrives to the street level. Lucky for me a young sailor who got on the train at the same time I did in Helensburgh knew Bob and when we arrived in Glasgow he carried my luggage up the stairs for me. I took a taxi to the Hotel and arrived about 20 minutes before the tour folks arrived. Almost perfect timing. What a jumble of people.
The hotel was one of those shabby gentile kinds of places that you find everywhere in the UK. I just love them. They have so much more character than the cookie cutter chains in the US where you always know exactly what to expect. Small hotels in Britain have character, personality and sometimes attitude. They are always adventures with their tiny, cranky elevators...er, pardon me... lifts and their warren of narrow hallways. They twist and turn, go up a couple of steps and then a little farther down there are a couple of more going down. I always imagine myself in an Agatha Christy or Dorothy Sayers mystery.
Frankly I don't remember
the order of events but I think that in the afternoon we loaded up in our two
tour buses and headed off to see the Burrell Collection that was presented to
the City of Glasgow in 1944 by the millionaire shipowner Sir William Burrell.
3000 of the 8000 items are displayed at any one time in the specially
constructed building which was opened in 1983, and features a wide selection of Mediaeval European art, including many tapestries and some truly wonderful
paintings by Joshua Reynolds. They also had quite a few painting by some of the French Impressionists, my particular favorites. They also had a collection of objects done by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Scottish Architect, designer and
artist (1868-1928). Jenny and Nicky think he is simply the best thing that ever came out of Scotland but I cannot see that his stuff was all that wonderful. OK, but not to my taste. Oh well.
According to my friend Elaine who was smart enough to keep a journal the next morning we visited The Barras,
Glasgow's famous Flea Market. I was not that much impressed with the place but I did run across a stall that sold used books. I always stop at used book stalls, it's mandatory. While rummaging through piles of books I ran across a copy of Audrey Howard's "There is no Parting." This book is a sequel to "All The Dear Faces" that I had bought when I was over in 1995 and was high on my list of books I intended to buy. I think I paid two pounds for it. So, that was me. I was finished with the dreary Barras and hopped back on the bus and commenced to read while the other folks shopped. About a week or so after the tour, the market was raided by the Glasgow Police Vice Squad. It seems that many of the vendors were selling stolen and counterfeit merchandise. Pity that our timing was off. To have been in the middle of a police raid would have made a visit to the Barras truly memorable.
After leaving the Barras, we
were then taken down to Sauchiehall Street. for more shopping and a stop for "tea." I was feeling a little grumpy at this point because a shopping trip to Glasgow was not very high on my list of things I wanted to do. But I pulled myself together and reminded self that this was a first time trip for most of these folks and a shopping trip to Glasgow was probably exactly what they wanted to do. I wandered around for a while and then went back and found the bus and read until the shoppers returned.
At the end of the loch is a
small village called Ardlui and just past the village is an inn called The
Drovers Inn, run by a couple of hunky guys who, whenever I have been in there
have always been dressed in their kilts. The Drovers Inn This
was one of the highlights of the day. I have included the link because I really
cannot do justice to it. Everyone but me ran around taking scads of pictures.
Me, I didn't bring a camera! I can't believe I didn't do that. Now I am having
to rely on the charity of my friends who planned for this trip a lot better than
I did.
After leaving the banks of Loch Lomand we started up into the western highlands, driving again unremarked, across Rannoch Moor. I am going to include another link as there is not much point in my trying to describe something that has already been beautifully described on a website. Rannoch Moor
Fort William is the largest
town in the west Highlands of Scotland and some of the most magnificent scenery in the western highlands. The highest mountain in the UK, Ben Nevis, is located there along with Loch Morar, the deepest loch. We stopped again just on the other side of Ft. William at a shop perfectly situated to snag tourists as they pass through. Again the shopping frenzy begins. As tourist snagging shops go, this one was not bad. It specialized in Scottish Woolen goods and while I didn't buy anything at this time, in 2001 Nicky and I stopped there and I bought I got a very nice fleece jacket that I wear frequently in the winter.
This had been a long day for me, always the morning person, and the rest of
the journey passed by in something of a blur. This is a shame because I have
traveled back that way several times since and the trip between Ft. William and Inverness is breathtaking. The road runs along Loch Locky and Loch Ness, part of the Caladonian Canal, and I am going to include another link here. To have operated a tour that traveled along this route and then to have not remarked on it is, in my opinion a crying shame. For the most part I think that the tour was reasonably well done but I thought this was a serious oversight on their part.
