Largs to Glencoe and a £3.75 breakfast at Morrison’s, what could go wrong. Err what the hell is that flat square slab? Answers on a postcard
Yup, picked up Mabel the MoHo from Kilmarnock and now after 40 miles, sat in Largs with an awesome view, nice food and wonderful company. Tomorrow Glencoe.
Last year we hired a 27ft RV to travel the North Coast 500 and since very little has changed with foreign travel apart from the intro of mass confusion and red tape, we’ve hired the same one again and are visiting a few more places in Scotland.
First night at a B&B in Gretna named after a Neil Diamond song (should have known it wouldn’t be any good just like the music), run by a couple who only bought it 3 weeks ago. Arrival was more like an interrogation, when all you really want to do is go to the loo or collapse, but hey it’s friendly enough, with the new wife who “speak very good inglish” but makes a terrible breakfast, a door that opens to the upstairs that actually opens on the stairs and if you have bags would challenge a contortionist, a room that is sweltering even with all the windows open, a collapsed mattress with a topper on it and a TV that sits at 90’degrees to the bed. I know they are learning, but it is the little things that either appeal or don’t in this industry.
Marks out of 10, 5.5. Next stop Mabel the MoHo
Yup another weekend and yet another bloody border to dig for yet more triffids. Please tell me that’s it, that you’re gonna leave me a little grass to mow and that it doesn’t need to be an obstacle course every time!
Well what a scorcher of a weekend, 35 degrees under the veranda and 37 degrees in the hot tub.
A day of cutting hedges, grass, weeding and general garden maintenance (oooo I’m in hog heaven!) with a little sit down before we finish the night in the tub. But of course when we sit outside, little Miss Willow feels left out if she doesn’t have her own camp chair
British beaches just don’t do it for me at all, but Mrs Fogg loves them.
So off we pootle to “Filey”, which I am sorry is smaller and less packed than Scarborough, but for me equally unappealing location. The things you have to do for someone’s birthday. Oooo let’s do the British delicacy of fish n chips in a greasy spoon where in this era of silliness you have to wear a mask, or not in this restaurant (loose meaning of the word), because all of their staff found them uncomfortable and took the decision not to wear them, that’s alright then.
On then to pay and leave, ahh we don’t take card, cash only! So where’s the sign and more importantly where’s a cash machine? Queue in the Post Office (who weren’t doing cash on cards). So try the Safeway, nope, balance enquiry only, Barclays, Nationwide, Lloyds, all non-existent. Tesco, a 10 min walk later, to find one machine out of order and the other with a queue and some woman trying multiple cards to get cash. At last cash and the chance to release Mrs Fogg from the “restaurant”, £19.98 or we keep the Mrs (bit steep if you ask me as ransomes go). Here’s £20, now give me my change!
Like a modern day Percy Thrower, Mrs Fogg’s greenhouse is all set for business after we completed the build of her staging from off cuts of wood and tongue n groove boards.
All set to start growing stuff apparently in 2022 (why did we have to build it now then?). She now has a solar DAB radio and a solar light bulb for the endless nights she will be spending up there
Mrs Fogg is now an ole fart “senior”, knocking on the door of bus pass heaven.
A leisurely up and then 15 cards (wow how many people does she know), prezzies and then out to collect packages from the post office including an awesome home made fruit bowl by Mr Talented Bartonfink.
While Mrs Fogg was forced to do the shopping (on her birthday of all days, well I class it as a treat since she never does the shopping normally), I spent the time inflating and strategically placing balloons across the house
Happy Birthday Mrs Fogg
So day 2 of Mrs Fogg’s Birfday treats saw her wolf down American Stylee Pancakes (with a mass of syrup), before leaving the hot tub cabin and doing a walk somewhere hot and sunny. What’s in store for Day3?
Here ye, here ye, let it be knowneth that Mrs Fogg is about to enter into HadultHood by becoming 21 for the 30th time. Time then for celebrations for this wonderful woman (I’ll collect the tip later).
Day One is a trip to a luxury lodge with her very own hot tub (and rubber duckie). You can find her Here
