Home Sweet Home

05/17/2005

We return to the Tower of Glen Trollaigh tired, but in good order at 6.30. We are full of praise for our short break in the Outer Hebrides. The Glen has changed in four day’s away, our beech lined avenue is now in full leave and the midgies are here. Staff and stock are very pleased to see us. I am a bit disturbed to have an urgent message from a chief inspector of police from Oban, to contact him immediately about a complaint of indecency reported in Glen Trollaigh over the weekend, but when I telephone, I find that the inspector is “off duty” so nothing new there then. Lachie cheerfully helps me unpack the motor and I note that dearest Dottie only unzips one of her three bags to let Mhairi help with the laundry, the other two, which I have heaved in and out of the motor at least four times, appear untouched. My own bits and bobs are thrown into one wash without complaint. What a difference between the genders. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.

Archie’s Hols.

Day One. Glen Trollaigh to Ullapool. A wonderful, sunny, lazy drive through Fort William and the Great Glen, leaving at 2.30, taking us as far as Drumnadrochit, and then over the back via Glen Convinth, Beauly, Muir of Ord, Marybank and Contin to Strathpeffer to see the restored Spa Pavilion. Westward then in glorious evening sunshine to Ullapool via Dirrie More and Strath More and the open vistas of Loch Broom. By 7.00, we were in the Parlour Bar of the “Ceilidh Place” that wonderful expression on the 70’s created by Robert and Jean Urquhart to bring Art to the highlands. The Ceilidh Place remains their monument to modernism before the “Grant Jumpers” took over. Perhaps the best resident’s lounge in the world; however, fusion cooking has hit the kitchens, even in The Ullapool Fish Week, my smoked Haddock was served smothered with Parmesan, and Dottie’s Cod served with a hot chilli, olive tapinade.The whole lot washed down with a ridiculously dry Sancerre at £25 quid a bottle. Our holiday spirits where restored with a romp to “Storm Bound” who were playing in the Ferry Boat Inn, where Dottie and I shared a pint of Stella buffeted by a selection of burly local Creel Boat fishermen. Much heartened, we made our way back to the Ceilidh Place and our 70’s breeze block bedroom via the fish pier to watch an atlantic deep sea trawler unloading their strange red fish. And so to bed.