In the late ’90s a short-lived monthly glossy called “Taste” emerged, packed with articles on alcohol, drinking and pub crawls. I guess it aimed at the sort of territory “Ferment” covers, except that it made pub-going sound more fun than sipping from cans in your underpants. A typical article would see a mixed group of… Continue reading A TASTE OF OBAN
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THE MISHNISH
“Where’s my Scottish pub !” you ask, tiring now of all this relentless natural beauty. HERE is your pub, the only one I saw in Tobermory with the Macdonald Arms seemingly closed. So let’s do the famous yellow one (someone painted it black a while ago and got lynched). The Mishnish seemed to have noise… Continue reading THE MISHNISH
WHAT’S THE STORY IN TOBERMORY
I was a Balamory dad. When I went part time in the early 2000s to take James and Matthew to pubs, it was Balamory and those Thomas the Tank Engine videos voiced by Ringo Starr (the best post-Beatles output IMHO) that we watched together. And I could leave the boys in front of the telly… Continue reading WHAT’S THE STORY IN TOBERMORY
SOMETHING TO MULL OVER
After that minor diversion caused by the need to be topical, I return to the epic Scottish trip at the end of June and remind you of the route, reaching 510 miles as we pulled into the car park at Oban ferry terminal at 07:45. Luckily, the previous night’s seafood extravaganza had left us unscathed… Continue reading SOMETHING TO MULL OVER
MORE GREAT SHEFFIELD PUBS TO AVOID THE FOOTBALL IN
A short diversion from the never-ending Scottish catch-up to be topical. “Oh look, there’s still tickets for the theatre at the Crucible tonight ! Shall we go ?” “Oh yes, perfect for avoiding the football on telly“. So THAT’S why there’s tickets left. A night out at the theatre, preceded by tea in a chain… Continue reading MORE GREAT SHEFFIELD PUBS TO AVOID THE FOOTBALL IN
LANGOUSTINES
Enough of that Scottish scenery, shows us some crustaceans, you cry. Possibly. Ellenbaich‘s days producing slate are long gone, it’s tours and long lunches now. And garden ornaments. We’d booked tea (or is it High Tea ?) for 17:30. I know, I hate myself. Looking across the stillness, I wondered how many other folk would… Continue reading LANGOUSTINES
SLATES
Well, this was idyllic. Camping on the slate islands in the Firth of Lorn, imagining I’m in the video for a Wings Christmas Number 1. The best photo comes from Wiki, courtesy of Michael Watson, who must be VERY tall to have got this shot; We opted to pay a tenner to park in Seafari… Continue reading SLATES
THE BRIDGE OVER THE ATLANTIC
Here’s some views for you, then. A bridge over the Atlantic, apparently, and a canon primed (?) to attack deliveries of craft beer. Oh, and a lovely garden in which to enjoy the mist descending. This is Clachan Seil, one of the most romantic sounding settings for a GBG entry which hove into view just… Continue reading THE BRIDGE OVER THE ATLANTIC
“Hey Google, play Glen Campbell”
One Twitter follower seems a little unimpressed by my coverage of the Argyll scenery so far, and they make a very fair point. But there will be some shots of the gorgeous coast, once I get through this run of five pubs in 5 hours (thanks Mrs RM). A mere 20 minutes from Kilmartin lies… Continue reading “Hey Google, play Glen Campbell”
WE’RE GOING TO KIL-MARTIN
The crawl round the Argyll peninsulas (thanks Mrs RM) takes in half a dozen seemingly identical hotels varying only in vintage, brand of hand wash and the age of the Jarl being served. 20 minutes after Cairnbaan we pulled up in the worrying sounding Kilmartin. That’s not our new campervan there, by the church. Kilmartin… Continue reading WE’RE GOING TO KIL-MARTIN
