beshemoth’s top secret trip to the homeland – part three

Well, with the main mission over, this part is not so top secret. Merely a case of, what to do in the wilds of Scotland when the weather is set to ‘pelting’? (Which obscurely pleases me, because this is mostly what I remember the weather being like).

Go to a safari park, it seems! You can sit in your car and watch animals being rained on, or if it should stop raining, you can get out and wander round the zoo bit!

… in a mac. Scottish weather is known for its ambushes.

I had never been to a safari park, so I was greatly excited, and the Bossman was probably greatly excited on the grounds that he can get in free, so he, er, only had to pay for my ticket. I am getting it laid on with a trowel this weekend and no mistake. And it was an even wetter, greyer, more miserable day than yesterday, with the wind whistling up the passes and the clouds funnelling down them and I was quite jealous of anyone who lived up here (as long I could sit in my nice cosy lounge, painting furious pictures of furious skies for a living and Tescos delivered, all would be well!) Of course, that’s the main sticking point with all my ideal situations.

The safari park, which we found some time after Satnav quite literally advised us to jump off a bridge, (this is why I like maps), was pretty impressive. There was a small fleet of camels looking strongly reminiscent of Spinal Tap on the way in, and weird archaic horses with post-apocalyptic haircuts and massive black things on the order of bisons or something (I will have this wrong, I did genetics, not livestock identification.) And while it was not so strange to see a herd of deer looking moody under a dripping tree with the patchwork hills of practically-home in the background, it was strange to see a herd of bison dripping moodily beside them. And there was a big ole moose wandering about looking fairly pleased with himself (I would too, if I were a big ole moose) and there were geese everywhere with goslings, and peewits with chicks and an oystercatcher standing there with another oystercatcher standing right on its back, like a circus trick, and then it dipped its bum down so they were touching tails and oh right that’s them shagging. Oh. Well, that’s… efficient, also ten out of ten for balance, I guess.

Well, you see something new every day. And now I have seen a polar bear on the mere other side of a fence a pitbull could probably rampage through. And he did indeed have a big blue tongue (which I completely failed to get a photo of). And I have seen a red panda, mere inches above somebody’s face, and the cutest wildcat kitten and snow monkeys looking chuffing miserable by a lake in the peeing rain. I mean, a loch. Honest. Although I think it’s fake, and more pond-sized?

That was fab. And on the way back, we stopped in at Blair Atholl castle, I am not terribly sure why, but it was there, and the prices were so exorbitant we decided just to plooter round the gardens a bit (and the rain at that point, it was torrential, so this tells you something about the extra cost of going Indoors). There was a wood we wandered around in, with a ruined church on a hummock at the top of it, and some horses that came to see if we were good to eat. And there were the walled ‘Gardens of Hercules’, with a big statue of Hercules himself standing outside the wall, with a cut-out bit in it so he can admire the view. Or so says the sign; the statue’s pointing the other way, with a world-weary, I Am So Not Bothered About Your Damn Garden expression. I found this hilarious.

Tonight we went out for dinner very early indeed, in case everything filled up again, but we were lucky and got a meal in that place my Colleague of Cakes recommended, at least, I’m fairly sure its that one, there’s a working waterwheel on the side and everything. I was mainly wondering what power output it has, but nothing said and I was a bit intimidated by the staff (unless the staff practically prostrate themselves at my feet and call me, my lady, I am always intimidated by them. And if they did, I would probably yell, Yeehah! and stomp up and down their backs just for the novelty of it, so… yeah). The pork bellies were good, however. And I rolled off up the hill to get an early night, for truly all this eating enough and sitting on my arse all day getting ferried around is astonishingly tiring.

At the hotel it was revealed (because I whined that I wanted a G&T but could not be arsed moving the four feet from my chair) that the Bossman fixes a vastly stronger drink than I do. And let me say, it is coming up to our year anniversary* and I did not know that, because I usually fix the drinks! (!!! -extra exclamation marks of outrage) (Although he usually pays for things. And on checking my bank balance, maybe I should keep schtum about this cos we can’t do it the other way around, alas.)

Anyway, the holiday was ended with me almost literally rolling into bed, after that one.

*(Unless I do something stupid to screw everything up, like, say, bitching about him on the internet like right now…)


About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
This entry was posted in a horse so high I need a parachute, adventures Abroad, all the small things. Bookmark the permalink.

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