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Thursday 7 April dawned bright and clear. We had promised to bring the sun and it seems our excess baggage fee was worth it!
Paul suggested a quick walk up the wee hill behind his house before breakfast. In fact, he being the last to appear, we had already eaten, but set out soon afterwards for the promised stroll.
Craig Mor requires you to crane your neck out the kitchen window to see the top, but we felt sure it was not beyond our abilities. Hiking sticks being offered around seemed almost superfluous to need, but not to look amateurish in the face of Pauls professional hiking attire, we consented to carry them.
Strolling first through the outskirts of Aberfoyle, then up the damp slope through our first real UK wood was quite delightful. Although most trees were only showing the beginning effects of spring buds, a few primroses were out, and a waterfall cascaded down quite dramatically. The chill air was nice and refreshing, and our hats and scarves returned to our pockets.
We walked by Eeyores house and the Pooh Stick Bridge, which all seemed enticing, but we were on a mission, and Paul declined to stop and play.
Onwards and upwards we went. Varied shades of brown and tan colours in the landscape, just like on the TV, were everywhere. New curled fronds of bracken just peeking through the matted stems of last years waist-high thickets, luckily made the way quite easy to navigate.
The strange phenomenon of Scotland revealed itself - the higher up a slope you go, the wetter and boggier it gets. So NOT like in Australia! Our sandshoes proved quite inadequate to the bog depths, and soon our footwear was unrecognisable, the mud also covering the bottom part of our jeans halfway to our knees.
Unfortunate footfall choices by both Matt and Nick left them both with soaking wet feet, and dirty knees, but at last, up and up and up, we reached the summit. The views all the way to Stirling Castle, the road to Glasgow and lochs all around were definitely worth the trek.
After catching our breaths, and taking pictures to prove our achievement, the daunting task of decent was begun.
Those hiking sticks came in handy for sure, steadying our way. Paul, ever adventurous, decided that the official path down was far too easy and obvious a way, so we trail-blazed our own, past the old slate rail line, and down and down, then through the trackless wood, crossing burns and fences and fallen logs with little regard to life and limb - ask Karen, who had her own close encounter with the ground, luckily falling on a nice cushion of moss, and resulting in little more than a wet rear and a bruised ego. Finally - home!
Fortifying warm drinks and a second serving of breakfast were partaken of while the boys' clothes and their shoes went through the wash. What a dirty adventure! Totally inadequately described as a quick stroll up a wee hill!! Lesson learnt today? listen to Pauls' descriptions then times this by 2 or 3 to get the reality (whether that be length of time, distance to travel, bogginess of ground, degree of slope…..) Plus, he pushes you hard. His favourite saying being "Yes, but can't stop, we must keep going."
After lunch we visited Stirling Castle, perched on a wee hill of its own. We were impressed with the newly completed restorations to the great hall and the living quarters of James V and his queen with their brightly painted ceilings and amazing tapestries covering the walls.
Matt discovered yet another potential job opportunity, as the coat of armour in one room had shoe covers exactly his size! The interactive displays again were the biggest hits, and we enjoyed matching dyes to their country of origin, and trying to play a recognisable tune on the instruments in the minstrel room. Both boys refused to dress up as a king from the olden days, it was far too cold to go around in tights instead of trousers!
We have decided that perhaps we enjoyed and were more impressed by Stirling Castle than the Tower in London, this could be simply due to fewer numbers of those pesky tourists in the grounds. But also because Stirlings displays are more focussed on history and not possessions gained by dominating other parts of the world.
We left when the workers did, issuing threats of locking us in for the night. A grand day all round.
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Jo A wee hill indeed! I recall those understated kinds of comments when I was there...