Pitlochry and Blair Atholl

Lachy and I decided that if I had a couple of days off work together during uni's revision period, we'd go on a little break. Originally the plan was to go over to Inversnaid but since I only had two days off (travelling back the morning before my evening shift) the rather complicated journey wasn't really realistic. So I started googling youth hostels in Scotland and stumbled upon one in Pitlochry, which it would only take us three trains to reach, in two hours of travelling (more straightforward at least). Neither of us actually knew anything about Pitlochry but it seemed like there was a loch and some hills nearby and that was good enough, since we were primarily there 'to study', of course.

The window in the turret? Yeah, that's our room

The hostel was pretty much opposite the train station so that was nice and easy. We were handed our key by a fellow Australian (fellow to Lachy, not me) who offered us the room in the spire i.e. the turret of the building, as long as we weren't going to be upset by the music of the dance party at McKays next door. Well, we were in a tiny Scottish village, so we didn't think the night life was likely to disturb us, and living in a turret! That was the dream. The room was fairly basic but nothing was wanting and we had a little circular annex with a table and stools for us to work in - not bad really. From our study turret we could see down into Pitlochry's main street and the hills beyond.

Once we'd dropped off our stuff and had some lunch in the Old Mill Inn we set out for a walk. A quick visit to the John Muir Trust shop over the way procured us a map with walks to follow. Luckily Lachy can read maps (I think I can but ... I can't). We took a route that would lead us around Loch Faskally via the dam. I hadn't been up close to a dam before so it was pretty awesome to see the high, still loch on one side and the wide river rushing out on the other. After the isolated idyll of Loch Lomond I felt a bit betrayed by the wire fencing, the county council's signs claiming ownership of the loch and the occasional diversion to walk along the road because some selfish goose had chosen to build his house right on the shore. On the other hand, there were some beautiful little spots like this little grove straight out of a fantasy novel, and it's hard to be unhappy in the hills.

Halfway around the loch we stopped for ice cream at a little shop and decided offhand to rent a pedalo. I had never been in one before and didn't quite expect the hardship my legs would have to endure, especially on the seemingly never-ending journey back to the shop across the lake, and I got out with a very wet bum from a boat left in the drizzle for days. Okay, I wasn't feeling as 'at one with nature' as I had with Jess at Loch Lomond. But we had a good giggle and finished our walk. After a couple of hours of actual studying on our return to the hostel, we cooked a huge dinner of pasta in the ample and very clean kitchen. There were a whole range of people there of different ages and nationalities; French and German were spoken more than English in our vicinity the first night. Invernsaid being my first experience of an actual hostel, I hadn't realised hostelling isn't just confined to young people, so that gave me hope for the future... We went out for a drink at the Old Mill again and listened to some country music before going over to the Old Smiddy for a pint of Corncrake Ale, produced on the Isle of Orkney and just about the sweetest, most delicious ale I've tasted to date. Need to get me some more of those.

The following morning we decided to take the train out to Blair Atholl, 'the gateway to the Cairngorms', just a ten-minute ride away. The drizzle had ceased and the sun was out in all its glory. As we sat in the common room waiting for our late Sunday morning train, we saw a crowd of people in the street outside, staring at and taking photographs of something just out of sight. Lachy guessed it had to be a famous person, so we high-tailed it out of the hostel to take a look for ourselves. From the top of his curly head above an open car bonnet Lachy recognised Jeremy Clarkson. We stood quietly while he filmed a scene, presumably for Top Gear (see: the car) and then he and the crew wandered off. An average day for Pitlochry.

Hiking through the forest in Glen Tilt

The train ride was only ten minutes (though we forgot to look at the platform and nearly boarded a train to London instead) and we were deposited, thankfully, in the middle of nowhere, with some snow lying on a far-off mountain like some scene out of Switzerland. Our map guide suggested a walk down Glen Tilt, supposedly one of the most famous glens in Scotland, so we followed the path along the river and up into the forest along a wide track. It got quieter and quieter as we walked, until a deer off in the trees was actually surprised by our appearance - though I scared it off with my gasp. We kept saying we'd sit down for lunch as soon as we found a nice spot but the forest just kept getting higher and quieter... then we finally emerged, passed a few groups of people, and followed the path through some fields for a while, alongside a lamb who hadn't yet really learned to be afraid of people.

It started raining and we couldn't see the bridge the map promised, so eventually we cut down to the river and sat on some rocks to eat our lunch of cheese and crackers. The map showed a firing range on the route back but said it was only occasionally used... unfortunately this turned out to be one of those days. We could see, from the opposite hill, people shooting huge distances at large targets on the hillside, and the path just below them. There was no way that was safe. We decided to walk back along the river, on the safer side of it. After a while we realised we'd missed a turning just before the bridge and gone further than the map had suggested... but after all, we are adventurers.

The walk back was much faster and we still had a couple of hours to kill before the train back, so we stopped in a little cafe for a coke, made a brief foray into the Museum of Country Life where some free-wine event was taking place, and then walked up to Blair Castle to sit and write for an hour or so. Unfortunately we had to pay entry to the castle and gardens just to sit in the coffee shop, but we made full use of our tickets and explored the castle first. The collection of weapons and antlers the castle has is incredible... there's even a pair of giant elk antlers found on the Isle of Man. It's one of the few times I've felt I was getting my money's worth for entry to a castle. Blair is still the home of the Duke of Atholl, where biannual dinners for the Keepers of the Quaich are held; it hasn't been forgotten and half-heartedly set up as a tourist attraction. The avenue entrance and the gardens are also beautiful.

We had dinner in Cafe Biba when we got back to Pitlochry that evening, and while the pizzas we had were perfectly fine, they were nothing special. We went back to the hostel and fitted in a bit more of the revision we were supposed to be there for. We set off home early the next morning so there was no time for any then, except on the train. But hey, no point wasting a beautiful day in a beautiful place on studying, right?

Until next time :)