Menootery; Yes, I'm Abootery

Getting The Grey loaded up took me three days. Remember, I am mid-60s, arthritic and asthmatic, and live up a rather high stair level. It's the stairs that undo me a bit nowadays - particularly if carrying anything over five kilos. I have one of those giant Ikea blue bags into which I loaded as much as could be handled on my left shoulder so that my right arm was free to hold onto the bannister. Day one, Monday, five trips up and down was enough. Tuesday was a write-off due to absolutely foul weather with no breaks between 'showers'. Day two, Wednesday, in between squalls (including one blast that nearly took the back door off The Grey!), another five loads of the blue bag, plus moving the Aferiy power bank... fluke would have it that my neighbour came up the stairs as I was struggling with that 25kg and before I knew it he'd whisked the thing into the van for me. Phew. Day three, Thursday morning, suitcases (two cabin-sized ones), two grocery bags of foodables and the oil heater. I spent the afternoon doing basic housework, so the Hutch is not a total hovel for my return. Then, I had a mega spa session, as it will be a while before I see a full shower again. I am good at the military camp form of abluting, but it will be good when I get to certain spots along the way to make use of any shower on offer!

Anyway, now I have the utility area at the rear and the bedsit at the front of the cargo area. I have draped a few cloths over the silver to make it a little cosier since these first photos. 

Then, a little after ten in the evening, I grabbed the last bag - all the tech gear and other important stuff - and locked up and off we drove for a battery charge. The first one I went to was a dud. The second one I got to was also a dud. Third time lucky, right in the town centre on the Pier Car Park, success. Oh yes, it was bucketing down as usual.

Doesn't he look good, my trusty steed?! On the second visit to this charger, before heading for the ferry, a young fellow and his dog drew in to charge his Kia car, and he was very admiring of The Grey. He had a sneaky peek inside and said he was going away inspired with ideas. He was from my part of Edinburgh and a regular hill walker, often visiting Dunoon. Mostly sleeping in that small car!

Anyway... that first night, it was nearly three in the morning of the 23rd before I got parked up on the parade overlooking the water. I woke again at five-thirty. Thought I'd sleep longer, but traffic and drumming rain might have had something to do with it. I spent that Friday in a bit of a daze and realised that I needed to stay in one place until I had recovered from the three days of carting stuff down those stairs, as well as unpacking and sorting once aboard. As the weather was so dismal, it was no hardship just to do my blogs and puzzles as I would in the Hutch. Friday night, I slept like a log (and again on Saturday night) getting a full eleven hours unbroken both nights!!! Total recovery sleep. Saturday, at least, wasn't raining, and an occasional burst of sunshine, so I invited my Instapal Coby (she of California and original Dunoon USNavy daughter, posted in Holy Loch for some time, attending the high school, and now returned with her British hubby to live here) to come have a proper 'van-warming' with tea and cake. I got to know Coby through the instything a few years back when she and Dave were still in the planning stages of the big shift east. Social media can be a real pain - but it is also a great connector! Anyway, that was a fun hour, and then I settled down to watch the rugby - well done The Blues!

As I said, that night was another long slumber, and when I awoke on Sunday morning, it was bright and clear and definitely more like travelling weather; although very cold, it was still and pleasant enough to have the door open whilst I had a brunch of scrumble** and fruit. and listening to the lapping waves, the gulls and sparrows. THIS, this, my friends, is what van life is about!

**Scrumble is a cross between scrambled eggs with toast
and eggy bread; butter the bread, chop up, and saute until a little
browned and crispy, then add the egg, whisked with a little milk
and seasoning, letting sit until egg mostly set, then flip over to ensure
full cook of the egg. It has occurred to me just now that sprinkling sugar
would make it a French Toast cheat as well!

After that, I packed everything up, and it was time to hit the ferry. I headed down to New Lanark (where I began my "Firsts Trip") and spent a couple of nights in nature. More on the anon... but here are two shots for comparison between the standard night shot on the Gopika and then switching on 'night sight'... Full Moon Over The Firth...

Menootanaboot; Beachery

There were two very bright days while Mac1 was here. The other days tended to the more usual xx shades of grey, with the occasional dash of liquid. This did not prevent outings. Mainly to the beach. When I say beach, you must not think in terms of palm trees and acres of golden sand. The shoreline here, as you will be by now familiar, is mostly of pebbles and rocks. Add in some seaweed, driftwood, sea glass and the occasional bit of china or plastic**, and it is one of those strands that invite beachcombers. Mac1 is rather a serious devotee to beachery. 

One can always be assured of interesting light effects along the Clyde. Especially when there is a storm lingering on the fringes.

Amazingly, the temperatures were more than kind. If the wind rose, it had a bite but sheltered from that; it was borderline balmy. Not a problem at all for me to sit and watch. Not that I am averse to a wee bit of beachery myself - but my spine won't cope with more than fifteen or twenty minutes of it. So I sit for the ninety or so that keeps my sister happy! 

On the day this first little set of silhouette images was made, Mac1 found some proper little treasures. A shard of crockery with a pretty blue pattern; several bits of sea glass; pebbles with interesting colour and texture; and the piece de resistance - a little rusted metal tag. A simple inch-and-a-half long by half an inch wide by 1/8th thick sliver of metal punched with a hole for attachment. Perfectly rusted. All such things go into her arsenal of print-making materials and fabric-dying goods.

On another day by the shore, we were entertained watching this fellow...

He was very close to shore, little more than 50 meters (55 yards), and I admit I was a wee tad concerned as there are some rocks not far beneath the surface along there. However, he clearly knew the water well, puttering along to the mouth of Blagaidh burn as it enters the firth and threw down his anchor, raised a tented shade and proceeded to eat lunch. As Mac1 beacheried, I kept a weather eye on the lone yachtsman as he then dropped the shade, raised the anchor and motored out to mid-channel. There, he cut the engine, raised sail and off he went, back in the direction from which he had arrived. You can't really tell from this, but it was rather a fine boat. Fully wood construction, painted blue and red on the exterior hull, and red sails. I watched and remembered fondly my twilight sailing days on Sydney Harbour...

Anyhoo, Mac1 was protected from any breeze by the water due to my fulfilling a request for a headband. One of the YAMster multi-yarn specials. I obliged while we watched Vera and Great Pottery Throwdown...

** Given the amount of shipping that passes this way, and the number of non-resident visitors, we actually do rather well in not having much plastic on our shores. At least, not here by Dunoon. As the tidal current comes right up against the West Bay area, it would make a natural 'catch pot', but somehow we fare better than other shores for such detritus. That said, it is also a fact that the waters of the firth are far from 'quality'... but that's a whole other discussion.

Menootanaboot; Sisterly Saunters

Before I begin... am adding this 'stop press'...  This is the British government donation site - I will research others, and there will be a full post on Monday.

Mac1 offered to come to stay for a week, and I did not object. While I always enjoy her short visits, an entire eight days was extra special! I don't know when last we spent that much time, just the two of us together. Decades, possibly. 

We were not going to let the winter weather stop us from exploring - but as it turned out, we had a few rather wonderful, almost springlike days. Even the days that were 'situation normal' were not cold, and things were managed between the showers. We only required one full pyjama day. 

Photo Ⓒ ACMoar

When the first morning dawned bright and shiny (yes, those are sunglasses on my phizog!), we carpe'd and diem'd and off to the promenade and Victorian Pier for fresh air and sticky beak. (That's Aussie for poking one's nose in...)

After the first stage of refurbishment completed in 2016 on this Grade A listed pier, little has happened... there is a 'To Let' sign up, owned by the Argyll and Bute council. It could be an asset to the town, but somehow, it keeps getting left... no real 'Forward' movement at all. Which is sad. It's rather a fine building, and we played a little of 'what if...' though the wash created by the ferry soon had us dropping any fantasy!

Photo Ⓒ ACMoar

There is a little refreshments shack on the road beside the pier. We stopped there, had a lovely hot chocolate, and basked - yes, basked! - in that low winter sunlight. We watched as Highland Mary stood in her eternal pose, gazing longingly across the water for a sight of her love, Robert Burns. The ferry unloaded a pile of day visitors, coming 'doon the watter' from other towns of the mighty Clyde to make the most of the mildness and - frankly - unsettling kindness of the climate. Where were the roaring gales, the blattering rain, the biting temperatures? I mean, really, where is winter and what have you done with it?!!

More next week... 

Menootanaboot; Less Discovery, More Recovery

Waking up on that Thursday of her trip to the Hutch, Mac1 and I couldn't quite believe our luck that we had the second day of pretty decent weather. Not quite up to the standard of the previous day, but vary acceptable indeed. One of the main incentives of this visit for my sister was an artist she follows in the instything having a couple of items included in an exhibition by the Scottish Society of Artists at the Dunoon Burgh Hall. We thus determined that, following our usual extended brekky and multi-cup tea session, we'd walk there via the back road and return home via the shore. Mind you, in typical clan fashion, it ended up being after lunch that we actually got moving. We got distracted doing puzzles and debating the ills of the world. As you do. Also, I had to divvy up the fresh paneer and 'vacon' and 'unsausages' that she had brought me and get them into the freezer. She decided this was worth recording. I am less sure of that need, but here it is for posterity anyway!

Having recently had to defrost the freezer after an open-door incident, I had only just restocked the day before she came. This meant puzzling out the best packaging and some shifting around to ensure everything would fit - hence the cry of triumph that makes it look like I am in pain.

Moving on. The afternoon continued its fair weather, and we ambled along Victoria Road before descending into the main street. On the way, we passed a house with a plaque. Plaques are a bit of a thing, don't you find?

Along the way, we admired many pretty gardens with unusual blooms (to be seen on Me-Now-Views and TAKE bloggy). Dropping down by St John's church, we approached the burgh hall from its rear. It had undergone major refurbishment not long after I arrived in the town, but we found that the backside was again under scaffolding. Works were clearly being undertaken on the roof and stonework. I had not visited for quite some time, so it was good to see the old place being loved. I was surprised to discover that the entry had been entirely altered, with a wheelchair ramp included, very pretty garden arrangements and the old lamps completely revamped. Very smart indeed. Inside there had been a bit of a change as well, but the main exhibition room remained as was. In there, we found an exhibition that we both truly enjoyed. We remarked in our review of our day that it had been a long time since either of us observed an exhibition in which we actually liked the majority of the works on show. In the image that Mac1 snuck of me, you see the main item from Alasdair Wallace, which was the prompt for the visit.

We took our time and properly absorbed what we were seeing. It really was impressive, and out of the 50-ish things on display, I can honestly say there was only a handful that had me curling my toes. The rest all had merit to be found. 

Exiting the hall, we cut down to the shoreline road and meandered back in the direction of the Hutch, making full use of the many bench seats provided along the way to enjoy the weather, the views and the occasional chatter with passers-by. We met and engaged with several dogs and, at one point, had a lengthy conversation with a chap whose King Charles Cavalier dog, Oscar, seemed to be on turbo boosters. The man was visiting from Edinburgh, and it turned out his sister lives in one of the big houses that have a gate onto the promenade. Mac1 treated me to a chocolate milkshake, (Oreo biscuit, no less! She had Nutella)  that we both agreed was quite filling, so it was a light tea for us that evening.

That had been two days of quite significant walking for me, and it was not without some relief that we awoke on Friday to find the weather had resorted to situation normal. Cold, wet and windy! Mac1 had anyway arranged to meet up with one of her needlework buddies who happens to live here, so I was quite content to sit and enjoy some recovery time. In the afternoon, we watched some catchup teevee together. Mac1 had to leave on Saturday to go and stay with another needlework friend for a party before getting back to Edinburgh. She's a busy one, my sis! 

It only remains to share the stained glass windows from our church tour with you. I haven't quite decided where or when, but keep your eyes peeled! 

Menootanaboot; Continued Discovery

Last week I began to relate some of the adventure Mac1 and I had on her visit here. What? You missed it? GO BACK! 

After enjoying the tranquillity of the interior of Holy Trinity church, we were met as we exited by another of the congregation. "Geoff" told us he was the assistant to the rector... and proceeded to regale us with a potted life history and his journey to God. It revealed itself to us that he has some form of dementia (by his own telling). He was sweet-natured and clearly delighted to have some listeners, and as the sun was shining and the air soft, we afforded him that for a good 10 minutes. It was he who confirmed what we suspected - that there had been no working party to tend to the grounds and surrounds pretty much since 2020, and he and a couple of others do what they can to at least keep the grass under control. 

Parting ways with our meet-and-greeter, we then wandered around the grounds, finding one of the purported two war graves to offer our respects and admiring many of the ornate and unusual markers to be found there. Notable were the wrought iron items, inset with stone and a plinth with a sundial. From here, too, there was a lovely aspect of the building itself.

Returning to the car, we were ready for our picnic, but stuck to our guns and drove the twenty minutes around Holy Loch to the Kilmun Arboretum. I have shared with you things about Kilmun Historic centre before (see recent visits with Aitch). I had never visited the arboretum before, so this was another discovery point that afternoon with Mac1. It was undoubtedly assisted by the very pleasant weather. And apart from close to the end of our visit as the evening encroached, we managed it with no midgies either!

There are a few different paths to be taken - but my mobility limited our visit. Even the short yellow route proved problematic - we walked the top side of it but had to retrace our steps, as to complete the circle would have meant my risking sliding down scree and undergrowth, and these days, all that this engenders within me is an image of a broken hip or cracked skull! My adventurous side is now naturally curtailed.

It didn't spoil the enjoyment of standing under the towering redwoods, beside the Himalayan pine, Noble pine, Douglas fir... eucalypts. Yes! Some of my beloved country resides here, well-rooted as I too have become. Treading on the fallen leaves released the oh-so-familiar smells of the Aussie bush, and my heart thumped stronger for the memory.

The yellow trail is named after John Jackson, who was head forester for this and Benmore Gardens for many years. There is also a memorial tree for him planted here.

I am, again, withholding several images to be used in future Tuesday posts... and this was only day one of Mac1's visit. More to report next week!

Menootanaboot; Discovery

Mac1 came to stay. Always a pleasure; in many ways, we are chalk and cheese, but in all things fundamental, we are our mother's daughters! This includes certain life philosophies and a sense of exploration in all avenues. We were blessed with two whole days of proper summer, and we made the most of them. Wednesday morning, while I prepared brunch, Mac1 took her morning run up Kilbride hill and into Bishop's Glen and came back with the news that the Episcopal church up there was open for visiting. This was interesting, as often churches in Scotland are not (without special purpose). After eating and ablutions, I packed a picnic lunch, as we had anyway planned to go over to Kilmun Arboretum, and we headed first to the church called Holy Trinity.

You can read the history of this church on that website link if it is of interest to you. Quite a chequered and determined history it is, too. We were interested very much in the architecture and windows. It must be said, there is a clear need for maintenance on the walls and roof of this building, for the damp is a serious issue. We considered that this is due, in large part, to the fact that the surrounding greenery has been allowed to take over somewhat, and this being a damp-drawing area anyway, cutting off air and light access is surely doing the place no service. You'll see from the bottom of the history write-up that a boast is made for the view over the Clyde... these days, you'd be hard pressed to know that you were anywhere near the shore, so overgrown is it! A shame, but I suppose, like so many such congregations, numbers and abilities are depleted. There was a serene feel within the church, though, and we were welcomed by one of the ladies of the congregation. The flowers were fresh, and the candles lit; depleted numbers do not mean lessened spirit!

(I'm not sure the fisheye effect did this any favours but makes a point of difference!) There was a simplicity of arrangement in the structure, yet the windows are truly wonderful and speak of 'money' being around at various times. I took many shots, of course, but you will have them rationed out. Here is just a wee teaser...

A section of the window to St Andrew. 

There is a quite magnificent font - somehow more of cathedral proportions than would be expected of a small rural church, it might be said. That said, I enjoyed its presence very much, being nearly as tall as me and crisply carved. Beside it is a small arrangement of chairs and candles and icons as a place of prayer, where we both took a few moments to reflect and add our wishes for World Peace and Universal Health...

Every little helps, yes?

At the west end of the building, there is an extension which currently houses tea-making facilities and storage. The floor is marked out with very fine ceramic tiles. Tiles are similarly impressive up by the altar. 

An interesting approach to the pulpit is that of what looks like a tower stairwell - I thought at first it was the entry to the belfry, but realised that was on the opposite (south) wall, locked and CCTVd. I do hear the bells on Sundays when the wind is in the right direction. There is a corresponding external entrance to that area, complete with boot swipe on the step.

The original organ is replaced by a modern electric version, and sad to see that even what remains of the old one is deteriorating quite badly. 

There was quite a bit to explore externally, too... for which, come back next Thursday to see that and trees, many trees!