Hi Folks,

Whilst I was last home, we decided to do a road trip to Edinburgh.  Driving in Scotland can be a pain at times.  Motorways are few and far between, the majority of major roads being potholed, dual carriageways if you are lucky.  Even when you get a good one, there are usually thousands of average speed cameras sucking the joy from the journey. More often the roads are single carriageways and you get stuck behind tractors/caravans/cars stuck in 3rd gear doing 40.  It can be a frustrating business.

But, there are a few routes where the traffic is light, the scenery is amazing and the road had to have been designed to be driven and enjoyed.

The Route

There are a number of ways you can get to Edinburgh from Craigellachie.  The main route is via the A9, the main Inverness to Perth road.  But it’s horrible.  It’s the main artery connecting the North of Scotland to the central belt.  The majority of it (at least it seems like it ) is all single carriageway. If you are lucky you might come across a dual carriageway section where you can overtake the hundreds of lorries on the route. But usually, a lorry at the back will pull out to try to get past the one it’s been stuck behind for miles and takes the entire length of the dual carriageway section to do so.   Then there are the very many average speed cameras the Scottish government are so fond of and which proliferate along the road.  In short, it’s to be avoided.

If you are in a rush, there really isn’t a good route.  But once you accept that it’s going to be a marathon rather than a sprint, you might as well enjoy the journey. And that’s where the myriad of single carriageway and often single track roads, that criss-cross this part of Scotland come into their own.  One of my favourites takes us from Craigellachie to Tomintoul via Dufftown, then across to Braemar, over Glenshee and on to Perth,  picking up the motorway to Edinburgh.  This was to be our route and I was going to drive it in the Aston DB9.

Convoy

There was a purpose for this road trip.  I hate to admit it, but I had had an argument with a Kerb whilst in the Aston.  You forget just how long the front of the car is and how low it rides, barely 4 “ clearance. Not great for speed bumps.  On this occasion, I had been turning the car. I drove towards the kerb to do a 3 point turn and thought I was miles away from it when “scrunch”.  Whoops, or words to that effect.  I finished the manoeuvre before parking the car up and leaping out to check what damage I had done.  Fortunately, despite the dramatic sound effects, there was no major damage, just some cosmetic scrapes and scratches to the under spoiler.  Relieved but annoyed at myself, I had eventually booked the car into the Aston dealership in Edinburgh to get it sorted out. Hence our trip. But as I was to leave the car for a few days, Wifey was going to follow me and give me a lift home. What I didn’t realise when I booked the car is was that Small’s school was closed this day, so Small daughter had to come too. And, as we couldn’t get a dog sitter and couldn’t leave Snuggles the Wonder Dog alone all day, he also came along for the ride.

And so the happy family set off on a bright but breezy Monday morning in convoy. Small and I in the DB9, Wifey and poochy following in the Volvo.

The Journey

Once past Dufftown, the countryside opens up and the views are really nice.  The narrow road twists and turns along with virtually no traffic other than the two of us.  Inevitably you do meet the odd tractor, but they are a considerate bunch around here and make it easy for you to get past them.   The Aston was made for roads like this and it’s a joy to drive.  With Small in the car and Wifey following, I had to curb my more ambitious instincts.  But tootling along, enjoying the scenery and listening to the wonderful 6ltr V12 engine, I was in hog heaven.

Now 8 yr olds aren’t renowned for their extended love of scenery or their patience.  Small and I had been happily chatting about this and that as we motored along.  But barely 15 mins into the journey came the first sigh and query of, “Are we nearly there yet?”   No dear. Long way to go yet.  5 minutes later. ‘Are we nearly there now?’  No dear.  So on to plan B.  Small loves the David Walliams books. I must admit, I quite enjoy them too.  What a weird imagination that man has. Weird, but very entertaining, so we put on his ‘Awful Aunty’ audio book and listened to the strange tale as we carried on through the beautiful Scottish countryside.

This part of Scotland is littered with Distilleries and we were passing lots of them.  Between Craigellachie and Dufftown we passed the Balvenie and Glenfiddich distilleries.  Now we were passing signs for more, perhaps less well-known distilleries. Glenlivet, Tomnavoulin, Knockandhu, Tomintoul,  Allt A Bhainne and probably many more we missed.  If you are a whisky devotee, this place must be heaven.  However, the catch is you need a tea total driving friend to chauffeur you around as they are all out in the middle of nowhere.

The Lecht

Before long, we turned off near Tomintoul and took the road that leads through the Lecht Ski Resort.  This road has some amazing stretches. Long straight sections, undulating stretches with blind summits, tight bends. It’s really good fun.  With Small in the car, I had to curb my enthusiasm somewhat, but even so, the road was a joy to drive and I am pleased to say she thoroughly approved.

Passing through the Lecht, it always strikes me just how sad Scottish ski resorts look in the summer. Glenshee is the same. Mind you, often in the depths of winter, there’s still little or no snow and that’s even sadder.  When you do get significant snowfall, this usually means the roads to and from are impassable. Driving now along the Lecht you can see how it would be particularly treacherous in snow and ice. Some steep slopes with hairpin bends at the end. Fun driving in the summer, probably less so in winter.

Corgarff

After the Lecht, you descend into upper Strathdon and pass by the wonderful and I think quite quirky Corgarff castle.  It looks like a toy castle but I would love to be able to have a mooch around inside it.  It’s not really a castle as such, but a medieval tower house. Originally built in the mid-1500s as the fortified home of the Forbeses of Corgarff, it was abandoned in the 1600s.  In 1645 the Marquis of Montrose occupied and repaired it, but it was burned down by the Jacobites to avoid it being used by the government forces.

In the mid-1700’s it became a garrison and that’s when its perimeter wall was built. Occupied by the redcoats, it was their base for nearly 100 years, patrolling  Strathdon for Jacobite sympathizers and latterly illegal whisky smuggling.

In 1820,  the house had its own legal distillery and whilst some examples

of the whisky survive, the distillery didn’t. The castle remained part of the Delnadamph estate, belonging to the Stockdale family until the 1960s. In 1961 the ownership was transferred to the Lonach Highland and Friendly society and these days, it’s in the care of Historic Environment Scotland.  All of which means I can go and have a mooch around it.  And so can you, 9.30 till 5.30 from April 1st to 30th September. Entry fee is £6.00 for adults, £3.60 for kids. Under 5’s free.

Gairnshiel Bridge

Normally after passing Corgarff Castle, a few miles further down the road, I would turn right, crossing the River Don to drive along the old military road towards Crathie.  This is another cracking road to drive with some wonderful views.

The problem is, after you go over the Cairngorms, you come down to a little tributary of the Don called the River Gairn at a place called Gairnshiel.  Here, there is the most Humpty of humpback bridges. The bridge isn’t that long.  Perhaps 30 ft or so? Maybe a little more.  Now I’m 6’4”.  Wifey is 6’2”.  But if we stand, one at either side of the bridge, neither of us can see the other over the bridge.  It is a very, very,  Humpty humpback bridge.  Usually, this would be fun.  But a wise man once told me, don’t even think of trying to drive an Aston Martin over that bridge as you will end up grounding on the apex and rocking gently back and forth in a very embarrassing style.   I am not sure I believe this. But I am not sure I don’t believe it either. Certainly not enough to risk it.

And so, we drove straight on towards Strathdon, avoiding humpback bridges and eventually cut across the country over more gentle farmland and low hills to finally arrive at Aboyne.  Here we stopped for refreshments at the  Black Faced Sheep Cafe.

The Black Faced Sheep

At one time, I used to live near Aboyne.  I had a little place called Clock Tower Cottage, I am sure you can guess why. Around this time, I was into horse riding and had a beautiful 17.2 hand mare called Greatly Gattling Good Time Girl. or Time for short.  I used to ride out over the GlenTanner estate near Aboyne and had great fun. Time was a big bold beast that would jump over anything. Often when I didn’t want her too. She was a lot braver than me obviously. Anyway, the family would occasionally accompany me on rides and being Scotland, what started out as a bright sunny day would often end up cold and wet. So to warm up after bedding down the horses, we would retire to the Black Faced Sheep for coffee, hot chocolate and cake.

The cafe has been something of an institution in Aboyne for a long time and it really does do a wonderful cake. And hot

chocolate.  I had promised Small a large helping of chocolate cake and Wifey has never knowingly refused cake.

Wifey and I had cheese on toast, served with a small mountain of salad garnish. I don’t know what the cheese was but it was strong and full of flavour. Very nice. I had red velvet cake to follow, whilst Wifey enjoyed a very impressive hunk of carrot cake. Small can, at times, be a bit of a fussy eater. Despite the varied selection of wonderful sandwiches, the quiche and healthy salads on offer, nothing seemed to appeal. It may well have had something to do with my mentioning the luscious chocolate cake before looking at the ‘proper food’. Or so Wifey said, anyway.  An argument loomed. No cake without proper food.  Being a responsible parent and also realizing I was to be stuck

for at least another few hours in a car with Small, I elected to pick my battles wisely and ordered her a huge slice of chocolate cake.  Wifey has a great line in disapproving glares and I was treated to a selection of them. However, she let it slide and so it was a short time later, after a quick mooch around the gift shop section of the cafe, we all headed off to the park with Snuggles the Wonder Dog.  He really is a good travelling dog. Never has accidents, rarely complains but he was by now sitting with his little legs crossed, so a walk was definitely in order.

One brisk and rather blustery walk later we headed back to take on the next part of the journey. Up to Braemar and hence onto Glenshee and Blairgowrie.

 

 

Braemar

The village of Braemar is a nice little place.  It boasts a number of good hotels with good restaurants and bars, plenty of other eateries,  from a very good Bistro to a traditional chippy and all kinds of gift shops.  We were planning dinner here on the return leg, but for now, pushed on.

Small was wearing most of her chocolate cake but had eaten enough for the sugar rush to make her tire of the audiobook. At times like this, we usually resort to the old stand by of I spy.  I used to like I spy. Now, I dread playing with Small. It’s not that she cheats exactly (although she does), it’s just that she is so good at it in her own elaborate style.  Case in point. I went first and being a grown-up, playing with an 8 yr old, I took it easy on her.

’I spy with my little eye, something beginning with T’.

“Trees”, said the lifestyle inhibitor. Correct, your turn.

’I spy with my little eye something beginning with SRDOTSBJUTD.”

‘What??   Seriously?, “ I pondered on this.  srdotsbj, err utd?? Errm ?  I pondered a bit more. A few minutes later and a smug little voice. ‘Give up yet daddy?’   No. ‘ Oh,  Come on Daddy. It’s easy”  Is it?  Ok, I give in.

‘Small Red Dot On The Silver button Just Underneath The Dash’ she announced with a flourish, followed by, “it was soooooo obvious Daddy”   Hmm, right.  And that was one of the easier ones.  At least this keeps her amused for a while and even keeps her quiet whilst I am considering the answer.  Meanwhile, I got to enjoy the amazing drive from Braemar up and over Glenshee.

Glenshee

The road from Braemar to Blairgowrie really is one of my favourite drives. I have driven this road in winter blizzards, in

monsoon-like downpours, more often in drab grey overcast conditions and like today, in glorious sunshine.  Regardless of the weather, I thoroughly enjoy it and in an Aston on a sunny day. Well, that’s as good as it gets.

It’s rarely that busy. Occasionally you will get hordes of motorcyclists or white van men. In the case of the former, it’s prudent to pull in and give them 5 minutes to get away. For the latter, they either drive at supercar speeds which is no problem, or so slow it’s easy to get past once a suitable opportunity arises.

 

 

 

On this day, we had a motor home driving at 35 mph to contend with. Patience is the key. We were stuck behind the German plated heap for 5 minutes or so, meandering around bend after bend.  Then came a nice clear straight section of road. With the Aston’s acceleration, you don’t need much room. Quick mirror check. Nothing coming in the other direction. No obvious side roads, indicate, kick down and whoosh. Past him. And the noise as you kick down. An almost angry ggrrrowwll. I love the noise.

Once clear of motor homes, the road was pretty much clear all the way to Blairgowrie. It was heavenly, the V12 roar, the bright clear blue skies, the rugged scenery and a small person devising ever more complicated I Spy’s. BKFOTGB.  (Black Knob For Opening The Glove Box). Easy.

Blairgowrie

I had arranged with Wifey before leaving Braemar, that I would pull into the Tesco’s in Blairgowrie to wait for her to catch up. The Volvo is a solid, dependable car, but not the most agile and it needs a good run up to overtake anything. So, we had agreed, I would fill my proverbial boots driving across the  Spittal of Glenshee and she would follow me at her own sedate pace.  I needed petrol anyway and also popped into Tesco’s to pick up some proper food for Small. Roast chicken sandwich since you asked and she wolfed it down.

Over the years, I have driven through Blairgowrie hundreds of times and I don’t think I have ever stopped and looked around the place. I know it has a very interesting looking country sports shop; James Crockart & Sons, selling fishing and shooting paraphernalia. It has a large Wetherspoons pub, The Fair O’Blair and I have no idea what that’s all about. It also has a Tesco’s as I discovered on this trip. But it is seemingly, one of the largest towns in Perthshire and is located on the banks of the River Ericht. Formally the centre of Flax growing with no less than 12 spinning mills set up. Blairgowrie is now the focus of the Perthshire soft fruit growing industry. So now you know.

It wasn’t that long before Herself pulled into the car park.  I was a bit surprised that she needed more fuel. I had filled the Volvo up before leaving home and it’s usually fairly frugal. Hmm. Anyway, she filled her up, took the small dog for another toilet break and then took the lead on the drive to Perth and onto Edinburgh.

Edinburgh

The drive from Blairgowrie to Edinburgh is ok, but can’t live up to the highs of The Lecht or Glenshee. Once you pass Scone Palace and arrive in Perth, you are back into traffic congestion and after Perth, the M90.

The Aston can handle motorway driving very easily.  It’s a GT car, so designed for touring. I just find motorway driving boring. The highlight of this part of the journey for me is crossing the new Queensferry Bridge.  It is a petty piece of engineering.

Started in September  2011, the 1.7-mile crossing was officially opened in by the Queen on September 2017.  It had been

expected to be completed by end 2016 but was delayed by bad weather.  The total cost for the bridge was about $1.35Billion. This is actually cheaper than initially expected. The crossing is designed to handle some 24 million cars a year but has already been criticised due to some lane closures and fairly regular delays and tailbacks.  None the less, it is a very pretty bridge.

 

 

 

Are We There Yet

Small had been very good up to this point. We had exhausted the potential for I Spy. The Audiobook was finished and we’d eaten my stash of Fruitella sweeties. So as a last resort to get us over the line, I offered her my IPad to play with. This did the trick and it was a happy and contented convoy that pulled into the Leven Car Group Aston Martin dealership in Edinburgh.

I parked next to a long line of jaw-droppingly pretty Astons and went inside to drop off the keys, accompanied by Small.  She is a sociable little thing and was soon chatting with the Sales staff and pointing out which was her favourite car.  Meanwhile, Wifey had parked the Volvo next to a large and impressive Rolls Royce and was emptying out the essentials from the Aston.  Umbrella, Audiobook CD’s, my jacket and Small’s coat. Check. All done, it was now time for our secondary purpose. To visit the Tesla Dealership and actually look at a Model 3.

Tesla

I was surprised to discover that the Tesla dealership was right in the city centre, just off Princes Street, or at least according to the Sat Nav, that’s where it was.  If you have never driven in Edinburgh city centre, my advice is, don’t.  It’s a nightmare.  The city council, no doubt encouraged by the Scottish government, hate motorists. Hence they have gone out of their way to make driving as unpleasant an experience as possible. The introduction of the tram system seems to have made everything a lot worse as far as congestion goes.  There are traffic lights every hundred meters or so and thousands of buses, no doubt aimed at encouraging people out of their cars and into public transport. Unfortunately, all that has happened is one big mess.  We were stuck at one junction for a good 10 minutes with neither us nor the assorted taxi’s, buses, or cars moving an inch. The lights must have changed 4 or 5 times before we finally got to move. Then another two or 3 light cycles before we cleared the junction. The reason? A tram was turning right and crossing our lane. But it was stopped because a car was in its path.  But the car was trying to turn and couldn’t move because of traffic in its way. In short. Gridlock.  It was hugely frustrating and tempers were beginning to fray around us. Horns peeping, heads poking out of windows and voices being raised. Well done Edinburgh, a wonderful piece of traffic management and planning.

As it was, the directions to Tesla kept trying to get us to go up roads which no longer existed, or were blocked off or were one way and not the way we wanted to go.  Eventually, in frustration, I parked up and paid the extortionate parking charge so we could walk to the Palace of Electric Delights.

Turns out the Tesla arcade is in the middle of a pedestrian precinct.  Right.  We could have spent a lot of time driving around looking for it. But we had found it.  Can’t really call it a dealership, it was definitely more a shop or an arcade. But it had some pretty things inside.

We oohed and ahh’d at a Model 3, a Model S and a Model X.  Small liked the Model X because of the gullwing doors. It is pretty to look at, but it’s also pretty expensive.  We had test driven the Model S, so that was old hat. But there, at last, was the holy grail. The new Model 3.  It was even in the right colour. Midnight Silver, Wifeys preferred colour option.  It was a left-hand drive model, there are no RH drive in the country or possibly the world, at the moment. But it gave us the idea.

It is a nice looking car.  Not especially exciting to look at, but pretty enough.  I still struggle with the spartan interior, but it was comfortable. Wifey sat in the driver’s seat, I sat behind her and we both had ample space.  I could easily sit in the back on a long journey without wanting to scream or poke my head out of the window. The sense of space is also helped by the all-glass roof.  It provides a panoramic outlook and an impressive feeling of space. I liked it.  Small’s verdict was it was OK. But it didn’t have fancy gullwing doors. If we went for this one could we at least get it in her favourite colour, blue?  No. Midnight Silver. And that was her interest in the car over.

With a large boot, which also has a lower storage bin, a frunk, (front trunk,  its an American thing and a Froot just doesn’t sound right?), there is ample storage and carrying capacity.  So the model 3 is a practical, as well as a pretty car that also has impressive performance.  0-62 in a smidge over 3 seconds performance. That’s impressive.  I wanted so much to hate it, but I am slowly coming around. We may yet be going electric.

The Disaster

All we had to do now is drive home, stopping off for dinner on the way. Everything had been pretty easy so far, but that was about to change as I discovered why the Volvo seemed to have developed such a thirst. It was making a horrible noise, a nasty grinding, scraping noise. First thoughts we had a flat.  Jumped out to look. No, all the tyres seemed fine.  I had Herself drive along slowly whilst I walked beside the car. Oooh. Hmm  Oh, dear.   It seemed the nearside brake calliper had seized.  By now there was no brake pad left, we were down to the metal, hence the horrific grinding noise. We weren’t going anywhere like that.

Had I been thinking straight, I would have called the wonderful RAC, the membership for which we loyally pay every year and never ever use. This would have been a perfect opportunity to get our monies worth.  But I wasn’t thinking straight.  I was in problem-solving mode, spurred on by hunger.  Pausing only to get directions, we headed off to the men in yellow and blue at KwikFit whom you can’t get better than, or so goes the jingle.

We arrived and parked up before visiting the head honcho.  I was expecting a hearty, “no problem, let’s have a look and we’ll have you on your way in no time.”  followed by a quick song and dance routine.  What I got was a “what do you want me to do about it, we close in 10 minutes”.

In fairness, he must have seen the look of panic in my eyes as he agreed to come and take a look.  Yup. Calliper siezed, unsafe to drive, it’s not going anywhere.  Need to order new calliper, pads and discs and we should be able to get to it tomorrow. For a bit of extra spice, we had parked with the front wheels turned to the right revealing a very bald inside edge.  It was literally down to the wire. Oh, dear Sir, tracking must be off. That’s 2 new front tyres required.  Oh Good. So with the car stuck in Edinburgh for the night and the bill rising, that meant we would need someplace to stay.

Still in problem-solving mode, I started ringing around hotels.  This delighted Small. Another day of school. A night in a hotel – she likes hotels.  At least she was happy.  Lots of hotels in Edinburgh. Lots of rooms to be had for 2 weary travellers and a Small Daughter.  However, we also had Snuggles the Wonder Dog. The number of dog-friendly hotels in Edinburgh?  Zero. At least none that I spoke to would even entertain the idea. I did consider briefly trying to pass him off as a guide dog. But no. That was never going to work.  A distant voice kept saying to me, “RAC,   RAC”. I think it was Wifey actually, but I was focused, a man on a mission, so I ignored it.  Instead, I got a nice KwikFit man to phone for a minicab for us and off we went to the airport to hire a car.

Financially Challenged

Do you find once things start to wrong, they really do go pear-shaped very quickly?  Once in the cab, I rang and made a reservation with my preferred car hire company. Sixt if you are interested.  With this done, I settled down to NOT enjoy the journey. I wasn’t enjoying it quite a lot as it happens. The traffic in Edinburgh hadn’t got any better and with rush hour now upon us, we were stuck in most of it.  Apart from being a pain and delaying us, this was also a financial problem.  I only had 10 quid in cash on me.  Wifey had the same.  I reckoned I could muster up a few quid in small change, but the meter was rapidly ticking over.  A sign informed me that it was cash only, so I thought the worst comes to the worst, we’ll go to an ATM at the airport. As we pulled into the hire car area we were sitting at over 25 quid on the meter. I had 22 pounds 37 p.  Err, can you take us to the terminal building to a cash point please, mate?  This didn’t go down well.  Long traffic queues, dropping off charges, car park fees, I could tell he wasn’t happy.  Wifey offered to jog to the terminal and nearest ATM if he wanted to hang around, holding Small as a hostage or collateral.  By now, Small was not happy. Bored, hungry and devastated that what had appeared to be another day off school and a day in Edinburgh had turned into a taxi ride and another long car journey.  We all knew she wasn’t happy as she had expressed it often and loudly in the taxi.  Faced with the option of spending more time with a grumpy 8 yr old, or possibly an eternity if Wifey decided to do a runner and not come back, the very nice taxi man forfeited the rest of his fare and what would have been a nice tip and departed with his 22 pounds and 37 p. One problem resolved.

Inside the car hire emporium, Sixt were their usual efficient selves and in no time at all, we were climbing into a BMW 325 saloon.  Not long after, we were finally on the way home, everyone, even the small girl and the Wonder Dog were happy. Small Girl because she had a dog on her lap and the small dog for similar reasons. He had a tame human to fuss over him.

We made dinner in Braemar at the very nice and refurbished Fife Arms Hotel. I can recommend it.  Not long after dinner, we were well on the last stretch and by 10.00pm, home. So ended a long and what turned out to be an eventful day.  It had its ups and downs, but it all worked out in the end.

As for me, I got to do it all again the next day, returning the hire car and collecting the old Volvo.  Not so bad. The Beemer was fun to drive and this time I got to go over the Humptyback bridge at Gairnshiel. Every Cloud as they say.

And on that note, thanks for reading and I  shall talk to you again soon,

Graham, The Wannabe easy rider Scot.