A tricky couple of days one way or another. It looked like we could get away for the afternoon, so we did.
I’ve been driving by the House of Bruar just off the A9 forever, but after a photie of the Falls of Bruar on the office calendar had me googling it, it looked like a walk to the falls and a look at some woollens and other country goods was in order.
Good call, the drive was in cold clear air, the tops all have snow and Holly and I enjoyed the metal of Dads iPod all the way. Lunch at House of Bruar was £17,000 but at least it was open, and the food was great. Open all year too, bloody hell, imagine that up here?
The falls are a joy, a nice wee hike too. The story is that Robert Burns visited the area and was taken by the falls, but felt sorry for them as they cut through a very familiar sight: bare highland hillside. The result was “The Humble Petition of Bruar Water”.
The Duke of Atholl did indeed heed the words of The Bard, and when Burns died in 1796, the hillside was planted and bridges built to give passage through the beauty spot.
Time has been kind the Duke’s endeavours, the fine stonework has aged wonderfully to blend perfectly with the landscape, the trees although now not the original plantings, are both diverse and glorious in shape and colour. Ach, sometimes it’s great to be a tourist.
We had cuppas when we came back down. Holly on the shoulders for most of the walk had both of us needing one. Then there were jumpers, cardigans, barbour jackets, local produce, things of tartan and things carved from wood and antlers. A long drive home into a low, burning orange sun shut the shop for the day.
Back to reality now though.