The hunting Lodge Inn
Bellochantuy Travel Blog› entry 10 of 16 › view all entries
After the micro meetup with Dr. Seuss, we continue our way to the next stop.
This will be the Hunting lodge Inn, an hotel I found on the internet, and its name appealed to me.
further it is very close to Campbeltown where we are going to visit the distillery.
The long and winding road, leads us along the Loch Lomond, a lake that inspired poets to write poems and songs. We pass high hills with ferns, the autumn colours are so beautiful, I ask my friends to capture it , but the pictures do not show the greatness as we see it.
Long and winding is trhe trip. It is light when we start, but it gets darker until it is pitch black. No street lights to help, and a bend or corner every 200 metres.
We pass Bellochantruy before we know it so we turn to find an hotel that isn't ours. The girl behind the tap is nice and tells me where to go: the Hunting Lodge Inn is 2 miles further down the road.
8:15 pm. The parking lot is full and I am glad I booked in advance:)... When we enter the whole family is in the recepcion. Booking? never heard of you. OK? But the Inn keeper makes us two rooms (like I booked) and a tasty sandwich dinner (the cook went home an hour ago)
They are re-furbishing the rooms and are shown to our yet unfurbished rooms. Not the best, but who cares (when lights are out it is pitch black and the beds are soft)
8:26 pm. We enter the pub and have a beer. I have to taste local beers so I start with a McEwan wich is tasty and good to drink with sandwiches.
The next mornig before breakfast we have a walk around the rocks on the beach. No land between here and America. Columbus should have started in Scotland. Unexpected: nice flowers. Brambles on the beach are soft and sweet. The beach is pebbly, and may be used for sunbathing only in high summer, but the roughness feels good.
Our breakfast is typically Scottish: cooked food and toast, enough to last until dinner and a good bottom to have whisky on.
When we check out, the bill is fair, so with a happy mood we continue to go to Campbeltown. Mad cow disease might be over, but the Scottish cows are quirky: they eat the grass, also on top of the rocks. (alas no pic)