Day 6: Glasgow – Inverness

Writing this two days behind, while G, who has been part of the team keeping me up drinking some quality drams, complains that I’m not up to date.

Last morning in Glasgow was uneventful, I did the usual wake up too early so was left with a bit of time to wait before I could check out of my room (they only had part-time reception and wanted to make sure I checked out properly). Turns out no one turned up at 9am so ended up lugging my bag in one hand up Bath St and calling them to let them know I was checking out.

Met the gang at the car rental place, and soon worked out that what Nissan think about 3 bags fitting into their car was a little different to 3 actual bags. We got it sorted, but the weird false bottom then needed to go into the passenger cabin. Jammed in, we headed north to the Highlands.

First stop was Doune Castle, where the former pilgrimage site of Monty Python fans has now become a holy place for Outlander fans. Loved that the narrator on the mobile guide was Terry Jones (though the more recent Outlander related entries were someone else, possibly an Outlander actor I don’t know). I only listened to a couple of the Outlander entries, including an interesting one about the kitchens, where they went and photographed and then built an extremely convincing replica in the studio. There were of course all of the Monty Python bits, which were very entertaining. When I was here in 2005 the batlements were open, so one could pretend to be French, but since Covid they’ve been closed, and the lovely guide out the front had no idea what the reopening plans were. And yes, the gift shop does still sell coconuts.

A bit further along the road was Cawdor Castle, a quick stop for a bit of MacBeth referencing, but they have unfortunately/cleverly built a great wall of trees around it so it’s pay if you want to see it properly, so we just poked our cameras over the wall. Pretty sure the Thane wasn’t around.

Then there was Dunkeld, a lovely little town with multiple whisky shops, a bakery, and a couple of lovely cafes. We stopped into The Clootie Dumpling, and I did indeed have the clootie dumpling, made to the owner’s grandmother’s recipe, which involves 4 hoirs of boiling. It was worth it, a lovely melty texture, a bit like christmas pudding but a little less rich and without the church change. I also had many appreciative words about the chantilly cream, as it was wonderful and a great accompaniment.

Also in Dunkeld was a whisky shop run by the delightful Will, offering a decent selection of unusual bottlings and also selling by the dram — M mentioned that we were celebrating our age and we scored a dram of the Carn Mor Cragellachie rum cask finish, which was delightful (if I remember, you’ll hear more about this later).

Along the road was Pitlochry, a very pretty town with lots of wonderful shops, sights, and, strangely, a whisky shop or two. We wandered through one such shop, and saw they had a bunch of older and rarer bottlings that, had I a spare few thousand pounds, might have been a cause for luggage concern. A bunch of old Macallan, an old bottling of the 15 year old Laphroaig, old Springbank, lots of pretty bottles. Also in Pitlocry was a Christmas Shop, however we skipped that one.

There was also a stop a bit north of Pitlochry to check out the Queen’s View, a spot with pretty views over Loch Tummel, the highlands, and all that goes with it. It depends on who you listen to as to which queen it’s named in honour of, possibly Victoria, or Isabella the wife of Robert the Bruce. All I know is that I didn’t see a single sequin, lip sync or death drop, so it seems that around here the queens they use don’t really excite me. A good place to stop for fresh air, and the busload of chainsmoking Germans thought the same. Weirdly, I’ve just got my brain rewired to understanding Scottish, so to hear German again did cause a little mental confusion.

Then it was Inverness. An opportunity to unload the car, stretch the legs before heading out to grab some dinner. I remember Inverness being bigger, having more of a central entertainment area, but hey everything was bigger in the good old days, right? It was quite busy, even being a Thursday night, but we managed to find a nook at The Black Isle, where we enjoyed some fine local ales and I had the mushroom pizza, a wonderful thin crisp crust, wood fired, with a decent amount of toppings and highland smoked cheddar to go with the mozzarella. To drink there was a fine scotch ale, an excellent and malty amber ale, and we finished with a couple of stouts, a roasted malty oatmeal stout, and an imperial stout full of big dark fruit and chocolate/coffee notes.