We're just back from a very last-minute break to the Isle of Bute. Why Bute? It was about a 2 hour trip to get there, the accommodation was very affordable and we wanted somewhere remote where we could throw our phones in a drawer and just claim bad signal. Our research prior to booking was spending about an hour googling for things to do, double checking the per policy for the ferry and then hitting book.
So we really went into this one blind!
We actually arrived a day early. Owing to weather warnings for the day we were to travel, the host of the airbnb contacted us and offered us a complimentary extra night to avoid risking the ferry being cancelled. Of course, I received this message on the morning of our new arrival date (because I would much rather stress about last minute packing than stress about my holiday being cancelled and being stranded in Largs). So we arrived late Tuesday. Got orientated to the place and went to bed.
Having all Wednesday was a bonus, and we explored Rothesay. There were many highlights; a beautiful walk along
Bogany Wood and hid
ing from the rain and watching the soggy birds in their aviary's
at Ardencraig Garden. The old Victorian Garden had been listed as closed, so we were surprised to see it open and were very relieved to wander about the greenhouses as the rain passed us by.
The most memorable highlight though was probably Bute Museum. We enquired about Missy and were told that they were dog friendly on the condition that the dog would go into the Natural History section. This seemed an odd caveat to us, so we obliged and trotted Missy over to the side with all the taxidermy. She wandered straight in and instantly tried to dislocate my shoulder in her enthusiasm to say hello to a stuffed seal.
"Lot o' dogs wont go in there. There 'ackles go right up an' they start growlin'." We were informed by the gentleman at the till. Missy insisted she be properly greeted and then we went about our visit. It was very interesting and focused on the history of the island, including the presence of an iron age fort. I admired some embroidery bits whilst hubby was rather enamoured with the midget submarines but then we did the natural history bit and, honestly, that darn seal. I couldnt get Missy to leave it be. And trust me, at 20kg of solid muscle, "senior" or not, if she wants to stay put then hell nor high water will move her.
It was just weird that she wasnt interested in the rest of the taxidermy. Oh, of course the loose fox tail on the touch table got an excited glance, but the nicely mounted squirrel was clearly too dead to be of interest and the birds failed to gain a second glance. There was even a sealskin you could touch which she casually sniffed and moved away from. But that seal...
I conceded in the end. It was exposed to the museum and didnt have a no touch sign, so surely a small sniff would do no harm. Well honestly, it was like I'd just handed her Christmas, tail wagging she sniffed all over its face and whiskers before, with a big sneeze, she'd gotten whatever curiosity it was out of her system and she was happy to leave it be.
"Oh aye," our stoic gentleman at the till nodded as we explained why we were now buying the dog a cuddly toy seal, "that things bin petted by 'unners o wains - dunt surprise me yer dogs all keen o' it."
In hindsight, it probably smelled of cheese puffs, or some other greasy afternoon snack!
I've mentioned before that we are
terrible at rambling. So much so that I officially banned ourselves from it after cutting myself up on barbed wire carrying Missy over fences. So it was with great trepidation that we started our next day. We warmed up into the rambling with a small circular walk to the
Kingarth Stone Circle. We were almost immediatly lost, but between Google maps and Pokemon Go, we figured out the route and safely made it there.
Emboldened, we continued to the next step in our plans; the
Dunagoil Hill Fort (aka the bronze age fort we'd seen mentioned at the museum). The directions were a bit vague at best, but we forged on and found ourselves idling at dead end. The turning circle said "Strictly No Parkining" and yet we had been promised a car park at this point. The heavens had opened, so we squashed ourselves out of the way and enjoyed lunch whilst we pondered our next step.
Just as the rain cleared, another car arrived, pulled up into the layby and some well equipped ramblers emerged. We both squinted at the layby and, sure as day, there was a postage stamp sized "P" on the sign post. The car was promptly moved and we set off in the opposite direction.
There is very little left in the way of ruins at the fort. However, the stunning scenery more than makes up for the lack of obvious history. Missy has mountain goat on her fathers side, so easily ambled over the rocks and weaved through hillocks as we carefully inched our way along.
We found some caves (but didnt explore too deeply in them) and watched the clouds roll across the sea. There may be little in the way of foundations, but you can still sense that this was a place of importance. The rain had yet to return so we added on St Blanes church, which was technically the ruin the car park was for.
A very successful day.
Friday was a bit of a mixed bag. The weather was more severe, with heavier showers, but we decided to make a go of it anyway. It started well; we found the Midget Submarine memorial which hubby particularly wanted to see. We decided that Missy needed a bit of a rest day, so drove over to Etterick bay with the intention of doing the beach walk and seeing the bird hide.
Intention being the operative word. No sooner had we set off when I heard hubby swear and indicate that, just ahead of us, a dog had jumped the wall and was now running rampant amongst a flock of sheep. Well, if nothing else positive can be said of us, neither hubby nor I can just walk away from a situation where an animals welfare is at stake. So Missy was handed over to the kids who were now watching their father chase after the dog and we went to join in.
Let me tell you. I have far more respect for sheepdogs. I find livestock intimidating, and when a whole flock charges towards you, its quite frightening. Nonetheless. It took way longer than I'd have liked, but we managed to coerce the dog to its owner and it was caught. The owner was very grateful, to say the least, and thankfully no sheep were harmed and its the wrong time of year for them to be in lamb. Missy was very unimpressed at having been abandoned with the kids and we went our separate ways. Now 40 minutes behind schedule, we started for the bird hide. And the heavens opened.
You know once your pants are wet its time to give up. So we abandoned the plan, went back to the flat to get warmed up and dry before having another pass at the day.
We had decided to keep
Mount Stuart in our pockets as an emergency option. Dogs are permitted on the grounds only, which was why we'd initially held off on it, but we decided that it was worth it to try and salvage the day a little. We got there, paid, took the photo above and then the heavens opened. Thankfully there were plenty of trees to shelter under so, once it passed, we made our way about the suggested trail.
The grounds were absolutely beautiful - autumn is creeping in and everything has begun to change colour. The made our way along the private stretch of beach and looped back through the forest. We hid from some more rain and decided that we should quit whilst the going was good and play board games for the rest of the day.
Which we did. To the background sound of Missys snores. Which is a rather good way to spend an evening, and to finish off a holiday.
We had planned on spending a bit more time on the island today but, after popping into the few shops we had missed in Rothesay, decided that we were simply delaying the inevitable, so we may as well catch the ferry and make our way home.
Would we do Bute again? Absolutely! We've left with a much longer to do list than when we arrived! Although perhaps we'll go again "on season", when more things are open and the weather is (perhaps) a bit kinder!
