Doune Castle and Stirling Tea

It is my Mum’s birthday tomorrow.  I won’t say how old she is, but she remembers WW2.   To celebrate we went to Stirling for afternoon tea as this is about half way between Cupar and Rhu where she lives.  This was the first time all three of us have been out in our Aygo (Gertie) since we sold the big Kia.  I was concerned there would not be room, but actually it is fine, with the proviso that it has to be me that sits in the back seat as I am 5’6″ and pretty flexible, whilst R and J are 6′ each and well, not flexible.  So I was comfortable enough and even had enough space to cross my legs.  The only regret I have is that I don’t get to drive when the three of us are together and I really like driving, but as R does not share my enthusiasm for my skills, that is perhaps as well.

Anyway, on the way, we went to Doune Castle.  It was quite good but not sensational.  Just as we left, two huge coaches of Americans and other foreign types rolled up, so just as well we beat them to it.  I bought J a bottle of “Holy Grail Ale” as this was where “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” was filmed.

There was a nice riverside walk afterwards.

Then we went into Stirling and bought a huge balloon for my Mum (she really enjoyed the one I got her for her 70th so much).  R was so embarrassed by the presence of the balloon that he insisted on walking some distance away from me while I was carrying it.

Then we had tea.  Again, it was nice enough but not sensational – it is funny that these high class hotels never seem to deliver a first class meal;  I could have cooked better myself for about quarter the cost.  The highlight of the meal was the present from the cats who not only had commissioned a birthday cake, but had bought an icing cake topper with their pictures on it – I regret the day I ever let them on the Internet with my credit card.

We just started off back home, and R braked at a roundabout.  There was an almighty “clonk” from the boot and we realized that the bottle of beer which had been constrained by the cake box, was now rolling free about Gertie’s boot.  As we did not want the bottle to break and poor little G ending up stinking like a brewery for all time, we had to pull into a park and ride carpark and rescue it.   Let’s just say that J will need to let the beer calm down for quite some time before he drinks it.