Loch Fyne, Argyll.

Having left Edinburgh with a cold wind blowing, we drove down Loch Fyne-side under a dull, overcast sky – but thankfully without that east wind! During our wee break in Inveraray, Z was delighted to find an open coal fire. Marina and John sat nearby but were initially oblivious to the fact that the plaque behind them proclaimed they were sitting in …. ‘Bullshit Corner’!

                    

 

This Bar–Restaurant in The George Hotel was a real find: originally part of the local police head quarters adjoining the local jail, it was a fine old building with thick stone walls and lots of fascinating nooks and crannies. Next visit we need to leave time for exploration! Importantly then for us it offered delicious home-made bread and a hearty mushroom soup. Incidentally, the jail was in operation from 1820 -1889 and is now a tourist attraction where visitors can learn about past trials and inmates.

                           

We reach our destination: West Loch Tarbert Hotel. A welcoming family concern with a splendid view out onto the golf course across the head of the West Loch Tarbert inlet.

          

 

That evening we celebrated my sister’s birthday there. I had the most delicious venison with white pudding wrapped in a fine filo-type pastry, served with a great, rich gravy and parsnip puree – excellent! If I had one complaint it’s that I was still digesting dinner when breakfast came round, but with sausage, bacon, mushrooms, scrambled eggs, haggis and fried tattie scones – who could resist?

                                   

Tarbert, on the east loch, is an extremely photogenic fishing village. As the clouds disperse and reassemble, the lighting conditions are continually changing.

                                

 

On our second day the sun shone and I was able to take some shots that show the village to good effect: her visiting yachts, boats of the local fishing fleet, - life-blood of the community – solid stone houses built to withstand the elements, the castle aloft, overseeing time go by.

                      

 

As ever, we manage to find another reason to celebrate: the arrival of cousins, Freda and Derek, who had travelled down from Glasgow to join us.  We really enjoyed our supper – most of us downed huge helpings of fish and chips – at The Frigate Inn. As you can see, as dusk fell, we revelled in the views our window-table afforded.

                            

I never, ever tire of admiring Tarbert!