Tuesday 22 Nov: A Hairy Coo Highland adventure

Early rising today, as we get an 8 AM start with Hairy Coo Tours on this program’s second journey to the Scottish countryside. No group meeting today, just breakfast and out the door to meet our bus at Waterloo Place, just to the east of Waverley Station and a five minute walk from the hotel.

The familiar orange Hairy Coo bus pulls up. I’m relieved to see it’s a 30-seater this time! Our guide is named Ryan, and as we settle in and pull out of Edinburgh along Princes Street, he regales us with stories of the old Nor Loch and how it came to be so polluted. In fairly, um, graphic terms. I already love this guy. He’s definitely living up to the standard set by our earlier trips with Donald, a guide who sadly no longer works for Hairy Coo. I’ll digress a bit, but this will help you know why I insist on working with no one but Hairy Coo, despite the travel agent attempting to book us with another tour company (I’ll admit I threw an email fit at the agent about this, and it worked).

Our first trip with the Coo

On our first trip with Donald, in 2016, we stopped at the Forth Bridges Viewpoint, climbed the Wallace National Monument, and walked the perimeter of Doune Castle, famous not only for its place in Scottish history but also for its starring role in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Outlander, Game of Thrones, and Outlaw/King, among others.

On that same trip we continued to Callander, the Loch Katrine (pronounced KAH-trin) Visitor Center, and the Loch Achray Hotel, home of Fiona the hairy coo. We returned to Edinburgh by way of the Lake of Mentieth, a stop at a village pub (Thornhill, perhaps?) for a dram, and a drive-by of Stirling Castle and the Kelpies sculpture brightly lit at dusk. Donald was most impressive as a guide, entertaining us with stories, jokes, and music by notable Scottish musicians, such that the bus ride was almost as fun as the sites.

Our second trip with the Coo

Our second trip with Donald, in 2018, proved how resourceful the Hairy Coo tours can be, though. The infamous snow storm the Scots called the Beast from the East had basically shut down the country, but Donald showed up with his bus anyway and told us he’d figure something out for us to do. Our first stop this time was not at the Forth Bridge overlook, but rather at the Rail Bridge Bistro in Queensferry, where we had scones and coffee with a close-up view of the massive old Forth Bridge. We could only drive by the Wallace Monument, but Donald kept making calls around and found that the Deanston Distillery was open and could take us for an impromptu tour.

Deanston is where I had my religious experience with peaty whisky during our end-of-tour tasting, trying out a Ledaig (Letch-ick) and Bunnahabhain (Boon-a-hav-in) in addition to the Deanston samples. We were also able to have a good time with heavenly lunch in Callander at Mohr Fish, a visit to Loch Katrine, and a stop by our old friend Fiona again. So even when the weather was too challenging, the Hairy Coo rose to the occasion.

This time around, our third edition, I have given the travel agent instructions for a bespoke tour that includes the Forth Bridge Viewpoint, a climb up the Wallace Monument, a visit inside Doune, a Callander lunch, Loch Katrine, a visit to Fiona, a drive by Stirling Castle, and a dusk visit stopping at the Kelpies instead of just a view from the road.

Stirlingshire: Kelpies, Wallace National Monument, and Doune Castle

It is quickly apparent that the agent has gotten this only somewhat right as we turn into the car park for the Kelpies as our first stop of the day. Nevertheless, the Kelpies are as impressive against the crisp blue and white sky as they are at night, and getting close to the largest equine sculptures in the world is certainly a thrill.

I get back to the bus while some in our party stop by a stand for coffee. I ask Ryan what itinerary the agent had planned. He mentions stopping at Stirling for a group photo on the ramp (but not going in), a drive by the Wallace Monument (but not going in), a visit inside Doune (which he had a group ticket for), and he also says that the site with Fiona would not be possible today. I sort of roll my eyes at all this and say I’m really sorry but the travel agent has got this a bit wrong: we don’t want this to be a series of drive-bys with just one entry… and we do want to see a hairy coo, even if it can’t be the inimitable Fiona!

So, no kelpie puns intended, I horse-trade with Ryan a bit. He thinks very fast on his feet and we come up with a good plan. We’ll visit Wallace and pay per person to enter, then hit Doune, something the agent got right. Ryan knows a place just outside Callendar where we can visit some coos after lunch, then up to Loch Katrine. He asks if Donald ever took us up Duke’s Pass — I reply he had not — and suggests this for a dramatic late afternoon view of the Highlands. This is why we love the Hairy Coo Tours!

Busaoke

Securing the itinerary thus, we’re back on the road, where Ryan treats us to a “busaoke” sing-along to I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by the Proclaimers. I don’t know how the group is going to react to this song from my generation of music but they sing along in rousing fashion. The kids know their late 80s tunes!

Wallace National Monument

We pull up to the Wallace National Monument and pay to go inside. The Wallace Monument is not the tallest in the world by a stretch, but being a Gothic rocket-ship perched on a small mountain, accessible only by a tiny stair, it feels much taller than it is.

For a second, I hesitate slightly. I remember getting a quite-winded episode of vertigo on the narrow stair that spirals its way to the top back in 2016. But I daresay, six years on, I was in worse shape then than I am now — I’ve lost a few pounds! — so I go for it. No problem. I’m rewarded with the spectacular view of Stirling in the landscape below.

Ryan peppers our ride with a history lesson starring William Wallace (hooray!), Robert the Bruce (hooray!), and King Edward (sssssssss! booooo!), featuring a graphic description of the process of drawing, hanging, disemboweling, beheading, and quartering, followed by the dispersal of Wallace’s four corners to the four corners of Scotland.

By far the least gruesome part of the punishment meted out to William Wallace was the “drawing” portion, or dragging him though the streets to his execution | HowStuffWorks

Doune Castle

Having been sufficiently repulsed by the creativity English kings applied to capital punishment back in the day, we arrive at Doune Castle. This is the first time we’ve been inside the castle walls, and it is a superior treat. Many interiors in the castle have survived and/or been restored well, and I’m glad for this new experience.

I discover to my unending delight that they sell coconuts in the gift shop! I introduced Monty Python to my son Cas a while back, and he loves the Holy Grail, so I get a set for him.

The Trossachs: from Callander to the Lake of Mentieth

We head on to Callander, the village gateway to the Trossachs, for quick lunch stop. My favorite, Mohr Bread, is sadly closed for renovation, and there’s not enough time for a long sit-down meal, so we head east down Main Street and discover Applejack’s at Ancaster Square. I get a bowl of savory home-made vegetable soup and coffee. Reviews of this place are mixed, but we enjoyed it.

Callander reminds me a bit of tourist towns back home: small in scale, walkable, filled with crafty shops, a bit cute, but I must say the Scots always manage to pull this off with a bit of an edge. I can’t say you’d find a hardware store named “Screw It” in New Hope!

A cheeky hardware store in Callander. My picture turned out poor, so this one is from Rick Steve’s blog.

Hamish Dubh and Honey

After lunch, we stop at Trossachs Woolen Mills visitor center for our long-awaited visit with the famous Highland cattle, Hamish Dubh and Honey. Hamish is a very handsome black coo, the first time I’ve seen one up close, while Honey is the more traditional ginger variety. They have a calf named Holly but she was not visible on our visit.

Loch Katrine

We head up to Loch Katrine, birthplace of Rob Roy MacGregor and the inspiration for Sir Walter Scott’s epic poem The Lady of the Lake, as well as a setting for Outlander. We enjoy a half hour walk along the well-groomed shore path, with its dramatic view of nearby Ben Venue. The last time I was here we were walking through a beautiful snowscape, but today is a very temperate fall day.

Panorama of Loch Katrine, the shore path, and Ben Venue

Duke’s Pass

We’re not done with nature yet, as we’re in for a new experience: Duke’s Pass to Three Lochs Forest Drive, with a dramatic overlook of Ben Ledi.

Lake of Mentieth

Afterward we still have enough sun to enjoy the Lake of Mentieth, one of only a few unusually-named “lakes” in all of Scotland.

Lake Mentieth, nearing sunset

Homeward: Stirling Castle and Queensferry

As we head home, we manage a good view of Stirling Castle, with still enough daylight to see.

Stirling Castle in the fading sunlight

Queensferry: subdued bridges

By the time we get to Queensferry, it is past the blue hour and we are witnessing a night view. The bridges, a great source of pride in Scotland akin to that felt by San Franciscans toward the Golden Gate, are usually lit up dramatically. This time, the spotty lighting illustrates the soaring cost of energy, a very sore point in this energy-rich country.

Evening: South of the Castle

Having done the Hairy Coo proud, Ryan deposits us back at Waterloo Place. On the ride home, we’ve been debating places for dinner and entertainment. I’ve made it clear that, with or without anyone, I intend to spend the lion’s share of an evening at Sandy Bell’s, where informal pick-up groups of musicians play traditional Scottish fiddle-and-fife tunes that tie patterns in time like an aural Celtic knot.

A group of us decide on the Kanpai Sushi restaurant, south of Edinburgh Castle. I enjoy a bowl of miso soup and cones of hand-rolled sushi filled with melt-in-your-mouth Scottish salmon. We afterward pick our way past George Heriot’s School to find Sandy Bell’s. It’s as traditional a pub as you’ll find, and we’ve arrived just as the players are tuning.

Sandy Bell’s

I start off with a dram of Lagavulin 16 year, a prohibitively expensive treat back in the States which here fetches a comparatively bargain basement price of £5. We meet and chat with people from several different countries: Mexico, Canada, and New Zealand. Is this a “local” pub? Hard to say, with this U.N. delegation that includes about 5 of us Yanks. A charming fellow from Ireland tells us to “f*** off wit yer f***in Trump lovers an ga back ta yer shite country” then buys me a Guinness. Really, this happened.

The music starts. Purely instrumental, all fiddles and flutes. These players just fluidly jump in and out of the rhythmic pattern. I’m no connoisseur of this music though I’m learning much about it in my studies of Scottish culture from afar. I don’t know the names of the tunes they play, but it’s evident they are as familiar with the music as they are with breathing. I take only one discrete picture. This is their home and I want to be respectful.

Players at Sandy Bell’s

The performances are breathtaking, and the endless weave of sound become a transcendent, relentlessly meditative act. I stay for hours, perhaps a round or two more than I should, but where can you experience exactly this but right here, right now? I remain in the moment.

Though the instrumentation is different, the atmosphere and energy captured in this video are not unlike that which I experienced.

Tomorrow: Time on my own in Edinburgh