After a great night with foot-stomping music yesterday, I drove out to the edge of Callander - ostensibly to just look at the highland cattle they have at the Trossachs Woollen Mill. I ended up spending over an hour and 18 pounds on the shaggy fuckers. I went in there three times to buy bags full of veggies to feed them and they turned out to be a huge success, not just with the animals but with literally coachloads of tourists who seemed to arrive just as I was planning to wind down.
So I gave away carrots and such to squealing, happy tourists who were more than content with stuffing MY veggies into the hairy hamburgers. Some even had the nerve to help themselves, hrmph! The consolation, such as it is, is that I must be in the pictures and on the videos of about a hundred tourists from all over the world now. Probably, I shall forever be referred to in family lore as "that weird guy in Scotland who stood feeding the cattle all day".
This is Honey. She luuubs carrots and is not above pushing her baby Holly away to get at one.
Holly. A very sweet tempered heifer who was very appreciative of what little I managed to sneak past her mom.
Holly wants more and is not afraid to say so.
After Callander, I stopped at the Green Wellie shop in Tyndrum and bought bananas, apples and carrots for the deer I knew would be hanging around Kings House Hotel but not a snout was to be found when I came up there. So I pressed on to Glencoe, where I signed up for the 3PM "safari", which turned out to be more of a lecture held in the confines of the cabin of a land rover. The only animals to be seen were spotted, with binoculars, way the fuck up in the hillside. Meh. Some nice pics, though.
On the way over the mountains, I saw a rainbow. This country really is tonic to the soul.
This rock was apparently well known in the area, but the reason why escapes me.
That crack in the mountain to the right is where lava flowed up 450 million years ago. This whole area was a caldera back then.
Evocative mists.
This fence around that grassy knoll didn't have any openings, according to our guide. It was therefore something of a mystery to the archaeologists. Have they considered that the farmers may have been Swedish?
When the "safari" was over, I still had time to go back up the mountain to see if the deer had returned to the Kings House Hotel. The little darlings were out in force, entertaining a busload of tourists almost right by the hotel itself when I got up there. The buck was holding court and pushing all of the does except one away. He went bananas (pardon the pun) when I brought out the fruit and several times he physically pushed me back to get at the bag of goodies, even chewing on my jacket in frustration.
Fucker even had a go at the banana peel.
Naturally, I was skeptical of the deer.
The day's considerable photographic loot was rounded out with this massive rainbow appearing over Rannoch Moor. It's almost enough to make a man religious.
Still, I was skeptical of the rainbow.
No comments:
Post a Comment