Whereby Ellen drives to Ellon

I haven’t done much driving so far. Visibility with the car packed to the roof was an issue, that and the whole driving on the other side of the road from the other side of the car on occasionally flooded country roads reality.

We’ve been leaving our own little trail throughout the UK. We left two suitcases at the Shepherd’s hut making the remaining three so heavy we hardly ever haul them into our rental cottages. We’ve a carry-on with a few days of clothes and just keep wearing and washing those over and over. We left the ginormous dog crate at 5 Distillery Cottage. We’ve replaced Gunner’s traveling accommodations with a lovely new bed, because we might have accidentally left his bed back at Auntie’s in Ely, Cambridgeshire.

We try not to argue when we pack up the car and leave, but we do say things like, “Okay, then next time you can do it.”

(Random lovely picture. MacDuff. Part of the loveliness was that I was also just served a very lovely latte.)

My first driving experience was about 2 miles. There were two loud screams, one from each of us, so that was one scream per mile. Our drive to Ellon went much better. 17 miles through the country on a sunny day, no flooding and almost never anyone behind me. All I had to do was not run into anything. There were zero screams, greatly reducing my screams per mile ratio. There were a few “You’re getting a bit close to the curb and one gasp.”

I got us into the town and parked without incident, immediately rewarding myself with this.

It was called a Stout cake. I don’t know why it was called that, but I was assured that it would not actually taste like stout ie. Guinness.

We’ve been staying in this steading, old barn building. Five miles outside Turriff or 3 miles outside of MacDuff or in other words in the middle of nowhere. Isn’t it charming?

It was all downhill once we went inside. Cold, not cool. Sort of dirty, not clean and dark. A wet room bathroom that made me feel as if i were using a toilet in a garage and the water was tepid. The bed…well, sunken in the middle, so the only way to try to sleep without falling into the abyss was to try and hang onto the outside edge. We did our best. We really did. We had booked a week. After 4 nights our backs were a wreck and we were so depressed, we called it quits. Booked a cottage for 3 nights in Inverness leaving behind our new French press and an electrical adapter in our hurry to leave.

The Day Of Remembrance

In the USA we call it Veterans Day. This last Sunday was Remembrance Sunday.

We were in Portsoy. Our favorite village so far, with a population of approximately 2000.

The parade began at 10:45 and any shops that had been opened shuttered their doors.

The parade was 2 blocks long, one block up and one block back.

With scout troops and the pipes and drums of Portsoy.

Reverent and moving.

Respectful and important…remembering.

Not just this village, but in all the villages we drive through are memorials with their poppy wreaths.

There was church and hymns and tears…and we are blessed.