Saturday, August 12, 2006
Beauty And Bad Manners
08/12/2006
A weary elderly couple return to the Tower of Glen Trollaigh late on Friday night after a wonderful six days on the Isle of Colonsay, to find every light ablaze, and laughter and music echoing around the baronial seat. The girls are home for their holidays with an invited cast of thousands for the 12th. Lachie and I watch nervously as shooters oil their weapons and knock back drams, for we do not yet know whether they can hit a barn door at fifty paces. I hope that we will be able to weed out the worst of them before they can do too much damage.
Dearest Dottie and I took our trip with the Glen Orchy Kerr’s on their boat, “Mhairi Katharine” and although we spent a night or three in the much re-vamped Colonsay Hotel, highlights of the visit were boat trips to Oronsay, Balnahard and the east coast of Jura via a sixteen-knot ride through the Corryvreckan. “The Colonsay” as the pub is now called was comfortable and well staffed; however, it has still to catch the magic and quality of “The Isle of Colonsay Hotel” in the wonderful days when it was owned and run by Kevin and Christa Byrne. All things change and if change they must, then “The Colonsay” has made a pretty good fist of it. Whilst tramping the white sands of Seal Cottage Bay, Oronsay, I was accosted by a wrinkled old bird in a silly sun hat and dark glasses, who informed me, without removing the shades, in Knightsbridge tones that I was on a private island and she was a “personal friend” of the owner, inferring that I had better hop it. As it happens, I am on reasonable terms with Francis Cockburn the current chatelaine and I have landed on the island a hundred times as the guest of previous owners. I was too polite to argue, however I did continue with my trudge. It is old, bad mannered sticks like “sun hat”, oblivious of their responsibilities under the Land Reform Act that give decent toffs a bad name. It is amusing that this year the same owner refused HRH The Princess Royal an unofficial visit to the Oronsay House gardens because she did not know who she was!
We were privileged to spend one night at anchor in Balnahard Bay, all be it in stormy conditions with hard weather chasing sharp showers and sunshine from the North West. What a joy to sit sipping a good Shiraz long after the ramblers have rambled off Scotland’s most beautiful beach and the canny wild goats had returned to munch the SSSI protected machair. Magic moments, and that is what Colonsay is all about, we met many chums and woke every morning with fuzzy heads, ministered to by cheery antipodeans and their version of the full Scottish breakfast. I think the hotel staff were rather amused by having OAP guests returning at 2.00 am in full song, but still fit for a good breakfast, rather than the hard pears and yoghurt seemingly favoured by many of our fellow holidaymakers. I think we have been on Colonsay every month of the year apart from August, so this was another “first”; yes, it did seem crowded with many parents addressing their children and their dogs in loud voices, and taking liberties with parking their four by fours, built up over many years of regular holidaymaking. However if this brings all-important spending onto the island, it can only be a good thing.Although changed a good deal since dearest Dottie first visited Colonsay as a five year old!
Back in the glen, in north wind and showers I cannot bear to listen to world news, with our hopeless leader sipping champers onboard a Caribbean yacht, whilst thousands die and “Doctor” John Reid, bullies power from “Two Jags” Prescott. What an appalling state of affairs, it can never have been worse than this. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
The Baron Socks.
08/06/2006
Just as Tanya’s Taxis roll up outside the Tower of Glen Trollaigh to carry dearest Dottie and I away to Colonsay, you my dear readers, have forced me to scribble a line or two in defence of my feet.
Many messages have appeared in my inbox this ackemma following the revelation that the baronial feet have swollen after too many days in sandals. I must thank you for the many supportive and helpful comments, to say nothing of the kindly enquiries after my health. However, I have also received a number of abusive and unhelpful comments from the Hungarian Trollaighs, hoping that my swelling will lead to my demise and the reinforcement of their ridiculous claim to the Baronetcy.
Let me reassure you that the answer lies in with the use of German Submariner Socks. I still have a number of pairs these quality items, much better inside boots than finest cashmere. I am confident that the extremities will regain their proper size instanter.
I am particularly cheered by winning a fiver from an eminent QC following the result of the Orange Tommy debacle. Didn’t anyone else spot that all Tommy wanted was a photo opportunity on the BBC news every night for three weeks? The comments from Rosie Kane MSP on the radio this morning have kept me quaking with mirth from bath time till breakfast. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.