Aberfeldy

(with a bit of Haddington)

June 2013

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Next up in the series of "we're not quite ready to take Daisy on a plane" holidays was Aberfeldy, and specifically at one of my cousin Nicky's (and Calum's) Drumcroy lodges.  We'd been up to their farm a couple of times in recent years (well, the first time was just me; the second time it rained all day), but we hadn't yet hired a lodge for a proper stay.  So we decided to do just that.

On Friday 7th June, we took to the motorway.  Lynne's well-honed plan was to stop off at a garden centre near Carlisle, where Daisy could relax, chill and avoid eating her mini cream cheese sandwiches.

One of the other features of this garden centre is the outdoor play area, featuring lots of sand and a raised platform which Daisy commanded as her own.  She describes this area as the seaside because of the sand.

It wasn't too long before we were in Haddington, and a tiring Daisy was read a story by Granddad Graham.

Lynne made an impromptu decision to go out for a meal (with me) in downtown Haddington, at the Avenue Restaurant at the Victoria Inn (I think).  I say "restaurant" but we actually just stayed in the bar area to eat.  Lynne was very happy with her black pudding scotch eggs.  If I remember correctly, I had French onion soup.

For mains, Lynne had some sort of cheesy dip with flatbreads and breadsticks, whilst I had a rib coated in cheese and caramelised tomatoes.  All very nice.

We walked back (having been chauffeured there by Granddad Graham) in order to burn off some of the calories we had consumed and, on the way back, we spotted this, which I took a photo of purely on the back of the phrase "Lord Lieutenant Of Haddingtonshire".

Over time, Daisy had slowly built up her own toy box at the Goggies' (Daisy's code for Grandma Avis and Granddad Graham), which she goes to first thing in the morning while the sun beats in on her crazy hair.

It was a glorious morning and so we headed for the beach at Longniddry, which was still fairly quiet at 10am.

Across the way was an old, abandoned factory.

The shaded Schofields look on...

...as Daisy attempts to build sandcastles with soft, grainy sand.  It didn't work well, unsurprisingly.

There was quite a large rock pool area to explore...

...and it wasn't long before we spotted a crab.

That's not much of an update, I admit, but it's something for now.  Much more to follow!

Right then, where was I?  Ah yes, at Longniddry beach, and the Schofields generally milling whilst Daisy stomped around in her pink wellies.

Daisy looked for more former homes of shell-based creatures for her bucketed collection.

We soon headed back to Haddington, whereupon the Rowllings turned up (at different times, in different vehicles) and Paul took me on a hilly ride (well, for me) on what was a beautifully warm day.  In the distance you can see the hill we were about to climb.  We had just left Gifford.

And here we are at the top of said hill.  Somehow it doesn't look as steep was some of it was.  Click here to see some details of the ride.

When we returned, Aunty Lynne was bonding with her niece, Becky Lou.

Here's the little cutie close up.

Becky does an impression of a scary monster.

Showered after the bike ride, it was inevitable that the BBQ baton was handed over to the New Zealand expert.  Avis asks for this secret.  "Keep turnin' them over and don't burn them, Ave" was probably his reply.

A close-up of the chargrilled meat (phwoar) and the corn on the cob (boo).

The great thing about burning nearly 1,000 calories on a 22-mile bike ride is the freedom with which one can tuck in afterwards.  Butterfly chicken sausages, burger, chorizo bread, pesto pasta, salad and a bap, all waiting to be demolished.

Here's to a cracking afternoon in the sunshine; in the foreground, you can see my demolition in progress.  Wait - there are a couple of people missing.

Aha, here they are.  Granddad Graham works his magic with baby Becky.

Daddy Paul then took over the honours, with a floppy white hat keeping the hot sun off her delicate skin.

The action was all too much for some people.  You can see here why Paul Rowllings was so readily accepted into the Schofield family.

Aunty Lynne does a stint of baby minding, hunting for burps, while Becky spies where the camera is.

It's time for the Rowllings to head off, and Daisy sweetly plops a smacker on her Aunty Lou's lips.

The next morning is another sunny one, and Daisy's crazy cot hair is lit up by the sunshine as she munches on her breakfast pancake (very much a staple at that time, to accompany her beaker of warmed milk).

As we prepare to head further north, Granddad Graham inspects Daisy's array of shells, lined up neatly on the chair arm.

That's all for now.  Soon: our trip to Aberfeldy.

Now: our trip to Aberfeldy.  By Sunday lunchtime, we were at our lodge.

We were in the Cluny Lodge, named, we presume, after (or in connection with) the Cluny House Gardens (more of which later).

Our lodge in particular was in close proximity to a field of sheep and Daisy was immediately in her element as a result, gazing out towards them.

There were some splendid views available in most directions.  In the middle of this shot, you can see a sheep sat down and admiring them for him(or her)self.

Close to the lodge, there was a particularly steep slope which Daisy ambitiously tried (but failed) to ascend.

Inside the lodge, Daisy found a corner to stand in.  Originally, she was stood facing me but, sensing a photo opportunity, I asked her to turn around and, dutiful as she can be, she did so.  She had not yet been naughty enough to warrant this but time was on our side.

Her energy knew no bounds as she was back amongst the buttercups and dandelions with her loyal sidekick Hello Kitty (veteran of all things Daisy - or is that her twin?).

Later that afternoon, we headed into the village centre for, er, an apple and some ice cream.  We were sat in one of those places where it would have been warm but for the shade.

I delight in getting a vivid photo of a blue-eared sheep but then notice the one in the background showing me its turdy behind.  Bah.  (Or should I say "baa".)

Full-on zoom across the way to take a picture of this house.  This doesn't belong to J. K. Rowling, tedium generator extraordinaire.  But this one does.

This is in the early stages of ditching the high chair as she sits properly at the table, eating her beans with (not on) toast.  I think we had pizza, which I picked up from the Good Food Takeaway (crucial food note: Lynne's pizza was extremely cheesy).  It must have been on the Sunday because I remember missing some of the Canadian Grand Prix (I know, calamity, eh) but managing to watch some of it unexpectedly in the fast food place because they had it on their laptop.

In what became a ritual, we were back outside early the next morning (8am is early to be outside, in my view).  The giveaway is the pancake in Daisy's hand, a breakfast staple.

Pancake consumed, she soon found a comfy stone on which to perch her nappied behind.

And there I must leave it.

Shall we do a new page?  Yes, let's.