In Search of Bluebells

After a fairytale sleep in the castle (the most comfortable bed yet) we were ready to start our day. First, down to the beautifully decorated dining room for a hearty breakfast. Those of you who know Dennis’ morning habits would be amazed to see him tucking into these Scottish breakfasts. You start off with fruit, yogurt and either cold cereal or porridge. Normally this would be my typical morning meal so I was caught off guard the first morning in Scotland when this turned out to be the appetizer, so to speak. After the fruit, etc. then you get the hot breakfast - eggs cooked to your liking, sausages, bacon (more like back bacon than the streaky bacon we’re used to), potato scone, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms. The good thing about such a substantial breakfast is that you really don’t need to eat anything else until supper. The bad thing is that with such a substantial intake you really need to balance with your calorie output or else. Glengorm has a valley on its property where bluebells grow rampantly. That was one of the things that interested me about it so we set off on a hike to find it (even though Tom had warned us that we were just at the end of the bluebell season so probably wouldn’t find that much).

As we were trekking along, we came across a herd of Highland cattle. This was also on my list of things I wanted to see because they’re very unique with really shaggy, long hair and long horns. It was fascinating to see so many up close. However, being a town girl I would have preferred a nice fence between us, especially since we had read that you have to be extra cautious at calving time. There were a couple of mamas eyeing us suspiciously so I took a couple of quick pictures and then we carried on. <Wearing a red jacket didn't add to my comfort level with those long horns pointed at us. Dennis>

Our path led us beside a stream and soon we came to Scout’s bridge. It was beautifully covered in moss but wasn’t safe to use so we had to ford the stream. Like Dennis said, you almost felt like Robin Hood or something crossing the water, going from rock to rock.

We finally got to what we figured was Bluebell Valley and there weren’t many bluebells left so we took what pictures we could and set off back to the castle (with a slight detour down to see the Atlantic). That was pretty much all for our time at the castle (the standing stones of the evening before were very much a highlight), just enough time for a quick stop in at the coffee shop, where I had fermented Victorian lemonade (another taste experience) and then it was time for our taxi to come and take us on to the next adventure.