Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
shop and upmarket off-licence formed out of some attractively preserved farm buildings.
I have spent far too much money here in the past, taking away a crate at a time of inter-
esting New World wines and the odd rare whisky. Somehow I manage to resist its siren
call this time.
Aberfeldy is approached over an old light-controlled one-way humpback bridge.
Another of General Wade's. General Wade was the geezer charged with building roads
over large parts of the Highlands after a highland rebellion in 1725, to make quelling any
future uprisings easier. What actually happened was that in 1745 the wily Highlanders
used the new roads to come storming out of the hills faster than they ever had before,
taking everybody by surprise. Visible from the summit of wade's is an elegant looking
footbridge which is made of plastic. I seem to recall this was hailed on a long-ago edi-
tion of
Tomorrow's World
as the future of small bridge-building, though that may have
been a little optimistic. Aberfeldy's a neat little town with good places to eat, several
huntin' shootin' fishin' campin' hillwalkin' type shops (the kind Les claims have lights
above the door just for me), a good butcher's and an outfitters with an intriguing upstairs
bit that sells antiques and lace, though the opening hours seem a little erratic. The road
rises steeply out of town, winding up towards the long undulating straights which carry
us across the moors for Amulree and the Sma' Glen before we rejoin what feels like the
world of ordinary roads again at Gilmerton. when I was working up at Nigg and coming
back to Gourock at weekends - in the seventies when the A9 still went through a lot of
the towns it now bypasses - this short cut genuinely did save time. Nowadays the A9, for
all its faults, is a lot quicker, and this route just presents a more interresting way to go, not
a fater one. Heading for Fife I'd normally aim for Gleneagles from Muthill (I've never
stopped to check, but I'd lay odds the locals pronounce it Moothill or something simil-
ar, rather than the obvious way), however today we take the original short-cut route, on
a wee daft road pointing straight at Braco. Then it's cross-country round the back of the
Fintry Hills for Dalmuir to drop Jim and onwards across the Erskine bridge to Greenock
to deposit Dave.
'I wasn't really tetchy, was I?' I ask as Dave retrieves his bag from the boot.
'I've seen you worse. Like the time you straight-armed the controls off that Pelican
crossing in Glasgow.'
'So,' I say brightly, 'not that tetchy.'
'Definitely not
that
tetchy.'
I decide I'll settle for this, bid Mr McC. a hearty farewell, climb into my comically
over-revving Jag and hightail it back to sunny Fife.
