To put you out of your torment, last night’s mystery copper topped pub was, of course, the Stormont in Blairgowrie.
Who ? Where ?
Turn south at the Cairngorms, right at Balmoral (micropub, limited hours), and if you end up in the sea you’ve gone too far.
Breakfast in Blairgowrie is 2 choices. Pecan biscuits in the campervan or mushroom benedict in the Spoons.
The Spoons has better loos than our campervan, buy has exactly the same number of visitors. Two. Mrs RM and me.
8:13 and it’s deserted, as is a town of 9,000.
The Spoons is a typically clean and shiny small town unit, so why so quiet.
No jukebox playing “Yes sir I can boogie”?
No Scottish specials on the breakfast menu ?
No regard paid to locals requests for rare guest ales from Padstow or Wolverhampton?
No. It’s because there’s no alcohol served till the indecent hour of 11am. Yes, no Tennents till elevenses.
No wonder they want independence from England, eh ?