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| Ashfield House B&B |
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| view from my room |
It took some doing to get here. First I went to Glasgow Central Station because the ticket I bought (and the internet) said I should. The guy there sent me to Queen Street Station and for the first time in a while, I walked several blocks in the wrong direction getting there. I actually think my usually abysmal sense of direction has been getting better in the last few months, but maybe it's just the fact that you can download Google maps. Finally I got to Queen Street (sweaty) and found someone to ask about the replacement bus for the train, which I had already gathered I would be on; she sent me out of the station and told me to go to the right, which I did, but it looked like a dead end and I didn't see a bus stop so I backtracked and went left and saw a bus stop, but the road was closed because of a bike race that was going on; there was no way a bus was stopping there. So I found a ticket office, stood in line, asked another lady who confirmed that the first lady had been right, so I went toward the dead end, saw that there was indeed a bus stop and a bus and three official transpo dudes who confirmed that the bus was the one I wanted to get on, which I did. Then the bus driver, who appeared to be about 95 started up the bus and I swear, drove in circles around Glasgow for about 30 minutes. I kept seeing places I recognized as being just a few blocks from where we started. Then at one point during this meander (and this might have actually caused the meander), the driver hit a metal road barrier while taking a turn, had to back up, and I think he actually wasn't able to make the turn he intended, so went another way. All that is to say that I eventually got dropped off in Arrochar on Loch Long, and made the short walk to the Ashfield House B&B where I am now. After chatting with the owner Cristina for a bit (she's from New Orleans, of all places), I saw my lovely room, dropped my stuff, and walked to the Village Inn for a late Sunday roast lunch. It was pouring rain when I was ready to leave the inn, and even though I'd brought an umbrella all the way to Scotland, I didn't bring it on the walk to lunch, so I waited out the deluge for a few minutes, walked back to the B&B in light rain, and got into a hot shower in my beautiful room just as a real downpour returned. And now I'm refreshed and full and in my pjs (at 4:30) and I'm going to make myself some tea and read a book I found in Cristina's lounge while it pours rain outside my open window.
On the walk to lunch:
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Sunday lunch at the Village Inn: roast pork, Yorkshire pudding, roasted potatoes,
mashed potatoes, veggies, and gravy. |
It took some doing to get here. First I went to Glasgow Central Station because the ticket I bought (and the internet) said I should. The guy there sent me to Queen Street Station and for the first time in a while, I walked several blocks in the wrong direction getting there. I actually think my usually abysmal sense of direction has been getting better in the last few months, but maybe it's just the fact that you can download Google maps. Finally I got to Queen Street (sweaty) and found someone to ask about the replacement bus for the train, which I had already gathered I would be on; she sent me out of the station and told me to go to the right, which I did, but it looked like a dead end and I didn't see a bus stop so I backtracked and went left and saw a bus stop, but the road was closed because of a bike race that was going on; there was no way a bus was stopping there. So I found a ticket office, stood in line, asked another lady who confirmed that the first lady had been right, so I went toward the dead end, saw that there was indeed a bus stop and a bus and three official transpo dudes who confirmed that the bus was the one I wanted to get on, which I did. Then the bus driver, who appeared to be about 95 started up the bus and I swear, drove in circles around Glasgow for about 30 minutes. I kept seeing places I recognized as being just a few blocks from where we started. Then at one point during this meander (and this might have actually caused the meander), the driver hit a metal road barrier while taking a turn, had to back up, and I think he actually wasn't able to make the turn he intended, so went another way. All that is to say that I eventually got dropped off in Arrochar on Loch Long, and made the short walk to the Ashfield House B&B where I am now. After chatting with the owner Cristina for a bit (she's from New Orleans, of all places), I saw my lovely room, dropped my stuff, and walked to the Village Inn for a late Sunday roast lunch. It was pouring rain when I was ready to leave the inn, and even though I'd brought an umbrella all the way to Scotland, I didn't bring it on the walk to lunch, so I waited out the deluge for a few minutes, walked back to the B&B in light rain, and got into a hot shower in my beautiful room just as a real downpour returned. And now I'm refreshed and full and in my pjs (at 4:30) and I'm going to make myself some tea and read a book I found in Cristina's lounge while it pours rain outside my open window.
