Bridge of Allan

Thankfully the rain had abated this morning, and the cloud lifted enough to reveal a carpeted headland of lush green. All in all, a good start to the day. We were hoping the weather would now settle and we would not return to the impenetrable grey of yesterday.

Firing up Marge, we left behind the calm sea, with barely a wave breaking on the shore and set off inland, as the weather was supposed to be better towards the east.

Our destination was Bridge of Allan, where John's mother was born, and spent her younger years before joining the Womens Auxiliary Airforce during the second world war.

Arriving at the town, we firstly sought out Marge's resting place for the night, and then drove out to find Airthrey Castle, where John's grandfather was a gardener, and where John's mother was born in a flat above the stable block.

Then on to Garden Cottage where they moved to when John's grandfather became head gardener.

Sadly, garden cottage was in a state of dilapidation, and although recognisable, looked nothing like the picture which adorned the wall in his father's lounge.

Across from the cottage was a pretty kirk, (church of Scotland). We could only imagine what a charming place it must have been for his mother to grow up.

Then on to the National Wallace Monument with its spiral staircase of 246 steps. John's mother worked here as a girl at the weekends, and before the monument was locked up for the night, she had to climb the steps in the tower to ensure no one would be shut inside.

It was six o' clock, when we arrived, the monument now closed for internal visits, but along with a few other people we took the path up through the trees to gain a closer look. Along the way was a sculpture trail.

The views from the top of Bridge of Allan and Stirling were fantastic.

Tonight, we would like to leave you with a quiz.

What is a Blaggis? 1) A filled bagpipe bag 2) A burger made of black pudding and haggis 3) A Scottish person with black hair.

Answer in tomorrow's blog.

Girvan

A peaceful night last night, despite the falling acorns, so peaceful in fact, that we didn't rise until 10 am. By then most of the other vans had departed, including one owned by a large woman and her very thin hen-pecked husband, who she constantly had running about outside with a bucket in hand. Poor man, not so much a Bonnie Prince Charlie, more a Bonnie Prince Bucket. We never saw the wife, only her large pants billowing in the wind like a large white windsock.

The weather not so good, we departed ourselves around 12 noon, hoping to drive towards an improving picture.

Our first stop was Monreith, where John spent a few holidays as a child.

Then we moved along the coast to Port William where we stopped for lunch and took a walk. The skies cleared a little as we drove up the coast passing the ferry ports for Northern Island. Upon reaching the town of Girvan, we stocked up on food at Asda, Angela impressed at how the man at the checkout handled her avocados with great care.

Our overnight stop is at Girvan harbour along with around fifteen other vans, overlooking the beach, and with the island of Ailsa Craig directly in front of us. After a video call from home, we braved the drizzle and walked out for a while stopping to view the Stumpie Towe, part of the old town jail.

Then we purchased fish and chips from an Italian run fish and chip shop and returned to Marge where Angela cracked open the Sangria, well we are on us holidays, as they say up north.

Tomorrow we will take stock of the long-term weather forecast for Scotland, and decide if we need to alter our course to find the better weather.

Caerlaverock Castle

In the Lake District this morning we awoke to low cloud and persistent rain. By the time we'd driven near to Carlisle the weather broke, and a blue sky splintered the grey clouds. Shortly after, we crossed the border into Scotland 'Welcome to Scotland Marge' or 'Failte gu Alba'.

Fittingly, just as we passed the turning to Gretna Green, The Proclaimers song I'm Gonna Be (500 miles) came on the radio and Marge bowled along the beautifully maintained pothole free road happily to the tune.

But no, life was not exciting enough for Marge. Turn left down this single-track road and throw into the mix a low bridge. Here we go again, we'd thought we'd left all this behind in Europe. Last night Marge, we said nothing too adventurous, let's hope this isn't a sign of things to come.

By lunchtime we had arrived at our overnight stop, a pretty parking area amongst the trees near Caerlaverock Castle in Dumfries and Galloway.

Through the trees we catch glimpses of the Solway Firth. The sun was out, and as we enjoyed our lunch, we were glad we'd adopted a new approach to our travels. Drive less and see more.

Caerlaverock Castle is an impressive three-sided medieval castle, constructed of red stone with a distinctive moat. The walk to it through the castle woods was tranquil with the birdsong being the only disturbance. We sat for a while on a grass bank overlooking the castle, and chatted to a member of staff. She said her favourite castle was the one at Corfe in Dorset, coincidentally Angela loves it as well.

Our return walk afforded fantastic views across the Solway Firth. Cumulus clouds puffed above the steam train of mountains.

This evening we expect a few more vans to arrive, as this is one of the few stops that has water and waste facilities in the area. Marge is nestled under an oak tree, and we know during the night we will be showered with falling acorns, but we don't mind, however, we can't speak for Marge.

Eamont Bridge

After a fairly peaceful night at Chester, we set off this morning to visit John's daughter Dawn and her family, who live about half an hour's drive away. Dawn received a present of jewellery from John's late mother on what would have been her 96th birthday. We also descended upon them with gifts of empty water containers looking for a free refill. Before we left, we introduced them to our chemical toilet, also in need of refreshing!

Luckily Dawn welcomed the pooper into her home with open arms, and we left all set for another couple of days.

Descending into the Mersey Tunnel we were soon on our way. Our destination was Kendal cricket club, but when we arrived there was a match on. Sorry Marge, 'no room at the inn', as they say.

Never mind, with some research on the park4night website, John found a pub near Penrith that was happy for vans to stay in their car park overnight, as long as you partook of a meal. Right Marge, head for those mountains. After miles of bowling along, Marge was introduced to a new terrain.

Stop groaning Marge, this is Shap fell, look upon it as a taster for our onward journey. Thank goodness we had not replenished our onboard water tank. We could almost hear Marge puffing. The scenery however was lovely, sheep speckled the mountainside, and drystone walls cut through the lush wallpaper of green.

So tonight, we are at Eamont Bridge, just outside Penrith, and Marge is happy alongside some fellow vans in the car park of the Crown Hotel.

Eamont Bridge is a small village, most of which appears to have been built in the 1700's, and looked a little French. The Crown Hotel, specialised in Thai Cuisine, cooked by the owner Mike's, (yes, we were on first name terms from the get go) Thai wife. The hotel, was less hotel and more pub, still set in the seventies, with salmon pink sanitary wear, red paper tablecloths and lots of anaglypta wallpaper. When we ordered the food, the Scottish waiter wanted the accompanying numbers to the meals to avoid a communication problem in the kitchen. It was like a Thai Fawlty Towers. but the welcome was friendly and the food was absolutely fantastic! We would definitely stay here again if we passed this way.

Our plan tomorrow is to cross the border into Scotland. Another day another adventure. But not too adventurous please Marge!