I’m old enough to have enjoyed Balamory as a dad, but too young to have appreciated the merits of the Bay City Rollers in the mid-70s. The Spiderman Musical OST was more my thing at 10.
I only mention the Rollers as they were the only thing memorable about the Stronlossit in Roybridge, just south of Nessieland.
Roy Bridge (no relation to Wayne) stuck in the mind as it’s one of the interminable tiny stops* on the Caledonian Sleeper from Euston, when the train went so slow I could have jumped out and ticked the Stronlossit then jumped back on in time for porridge.
If it hadn’t been 06:00 in the morning.
At 15:00, it’s a safer bet.
Good grief. THREE beers ?
In a rush of blood to the head (sorry, Coldplay reference) I went for the Glen Spean brewed in a shed up the road. I never learn.
It’s a pleasantly plain wood-panelled hotel bar escaping the manic hordes descending (ascending ?) on Scotland from the south.
Just one other family, probably from Carluke, on a late June Saturday.
But they’re a great family, almost as good as my own.
The dad, who looks 35 but knows EVERY ’70s hit, teaches his lads “Yes Sir, I Can Boogie” and the Rollers timeless classic,
and I remember what I love about pubs (even when you can’t take pics because, children).
“Shang……..a lang” sings Dad, waving fingers in the hour.
His wife looks embarrassed; I’m rooting for them.
“Tinseltown In The Rain“ comes on; Dad has never heard of the Blue Nile.
If only the Glen Spean had been better than a honeyed NBSS 2. Music better than beer. But then, you saw that coming….
*If this was England Beeching would have culled it.