Trossachs by Motorhome.
Loch Katrine.
Loch Lomond’s pretty little sister, Katrine, the setting for Sir Walter Scott’s poem the Lady of the Lake, and the broadsword-wielding clan chieftain Rob Roy MacGregor.
The MacGregors fought the Campbells for decades and were dispossessed of all their lands. Reduced to the status of outlaws they rustled cattle and poached deer in order to survive. They became so good at this that many other clans would pay them not to steal their cattle.
Watched over by the mighty summit of Ben Venue, the loch unwinds through spectacular Highland scenery. Take the romantic old steamer to the pier at Stronachlachar. Have a Rob Roy Special hot chocolate and brandy on the way and then walk or cycle back along the north shore.
S S Sir Walter Scott.
The Motorhomers were partaking of a Rob Roy special, and Francie was quizzing Josie regarding the physique of the great chieftain;
‘Josie, wis Rob Roy a big, big, guy?’ he asked.
‘Och, here ye go again, Francie, stickin’ yer neb intae my indeterminate mine of golden nuggets, Francie,’ he said. ‘Aye, Rob Roy wis a big, big, giant o’ a man, Francie,’ he said .
‘Josie, how did he manage tae climb ower a’ yon hills kerryin’ yon big, big, sword, Josie?’ Francie asked.
‘Francie, ye wee dumplin’, he didnae kerry the big, big, sword,’ said Josie. ‘He kept it in his quiver beside his bows an’ arras,’ he said.
‘Och, Josie, did he have bows an’ arras tae, Josie, an’ a big, big, iron, shield as well, Josie, how the heck did he kerry a’ yon big, heavy, things?’ Francie insisted.
‘Francie, ye wee eejit, he had a big, big, heavy, Clydesdale hoarse,’ replied Josie.
‘Aw, Josie, he didnae kerry the big, big, heavy, Clydesdale hoarse as well, did he?’ asked Francie.
‘Francie, get a tenner aff Jessie, an’ go an’ get us anither round o’ Rob Roy specials,’ said Josie.
The two men’s wives had been quietly sipping their Rob Roy Specials and listening to the pair’s stupid talk;
‘Aye, that’ll be right,’ said Jessie. ‘Ye can go an’ bile yer heid, Josie,’ she said.
Phemie noticed that Francie’s petted-lip was trembling and she said;
‘I quite like the taste o’ them, Jessie. Francie, here’s a tenner, go an’ get the same again, my wee pet,’ she said.
‘Sure, Phemie, sure, Phemie,’ said Francie.
Comment: Followers of the four Glaswegians featured in the blog can learn more about them by clicking here.
For the adventures of Francie and Josie, click here.
