Menootanaboot with The Adventurous Bear

Failte efurrybuddy! It is I, Brom o' dun Omhain (Dunoon - temporarily). Today I would like to share with you the first part of some time spent with a young man called Oscar. He is a cousin of YAM-aunty... third, twice removed. We think. Whateva... he's all of 20 years and a gentle, inquisitive soul who is visiting from the land of OZ. He had two days here with us at the Hutch. On the afternoon he arrived, the weather was dry, so aunty said we ought to get out and about and 'carpe diem'. (I thought it was supposed to be Gaelic roon here?)

First we went down to the shore and walked the promenade. There were things to see!

After this we went up to Bishop's Glen so that the budding ecology and environment student could take in the wee bit of Caledonian Forest which is to be found there.

The cygnets who were pint-sized a few weeks back are now fully grown... and learning the 'attack formation' rules from mum - this was them, heads down and sashaying danged fast towards us. Aunty nearly backed into dad, who had snuck up behind her!!! A moment of adventure, to be sure.

Oscar felt it necessary to hug a tree or three.

As we came back down towards the Hutch, there were two ambulances and crowds in the quiet wee street.

[YAM here for a mo': The scaffolding had been started for the Great Roof Repairs (reference difficult neighbour and long-haul mediation); horror of horrors, the electrical fellow had come to shift the satellite dish which had been such a great bone of contention and wouldn't you know it, had taken a tumble to the pavement. He will be okay, but what a shock - and an example of the dark energy of 'that flat' stretching out its tendrils...sigh... back to Brom .]

I had been promised adventure, but wasn't really expecting blues and twos...

Next morning, the day dawned bright and aunty got all twitterpated. 'We have to get out and about!' she declared over a brekky of fruit'n'nut porridge... (none for me, but a bear can dream, right?) Before I could say 'hoots mon' we were in Li'l Ren heading up over the Cowals towards the Isle of Bute.

We stopped first at Little Eachaig (pronounced 'eck') falls. Scots pine forest here for the ecology boy - and a photo op. We look rather good together, donchya think?

From here it was onwards to Rothsay, the capital of the island, to visit the castle.

Here, aunty got a stamp for my passport to show I had attended; the fellow at the desk seemed a little 'bearmused' about it all, but got into the spirit of the thing - then offered to take a group photo.

Then aunty thought I deserved to have a solo shoot.

The moat was mighty impressive - and I made sure to sit tightly against the post. The potential for adventure loomed large at this point. Jus' sayin'.

As we walked through the main gate, Oscar decided to duck down into the dungeon. I did not have that urge, so rested on the rails for a bit.

It is worth noting at this point that I was glad of my Dutchie cloak... the sun might have been bright but the wind had a bite!

We lingered around the castle for a an hour or so. Once in the centre we discovered something very exciting indeed - for me. Norwegian connections! First there were the Vikings - who pretty much ruled Bute for quite some time - and later there was a Scots princess who married a Norge King - then a Norwegian princess who married a Scots king. Her name was Margaret.

Will stop here - the rest of time with Oscar will be here on Thursday.

you'll need to biggify!