The Scottish Adventure

As I sit here now, wrapped in a blanket, drinking Lemsip, with a horrible cough and cold it seems impossible to believe that just over a week ago I was sat enjoying a beer over looking the beautiful streets of Edinburgh.

At least that’s what I thought I would start this post with, but then I realised that wasn’t true. It’s totally possible to believe because that’s WHY I have a horrible cough and a cold. Every time I leave the house to do something a bit different I come back with a cold. I should be grateful that it’s not been Covid, but after 7 vaccines I think I probably have more immunity to Covid than I do to the plethora of coughs and sneezes that are going around, until they invent a vaccine for the common cold.

But on with recounting the adventures, because that’s why we’re here, not to whinge about feeling poorly.

I had a couple of pretty much adventure free weeks prior to this week, determined to be in a vaguely healthy state for this adventure because it’s one that’s been on my “I’d love to do that” list for so long, and I was determined not to catch anything hideous before I went.

If you follow me on Instagram you’ll have seen last weeks adventures unfolding, but for those not in the know, we headed off to Scotland and the sleeper train, and spent an absurdly extravagant night in The Witchery in Edinburgh.

The first tick on the adventure list was to drive down to Kent, because when you have Pugs you have to find someone who’s willing to be part maid and part cushion for them while you’re away, and my parents won the Pug lottery. Popping down there also meant we got the chance to visit my sister and her menagerie that consists of 4 chihuahuas and a Pomeranian. They are very cute, but also very yappy.

The Sleeper Train

With the Pugs suitably ensconsed on their new laps, we headed up to London, we’ll gloss over that bit, because it involved tube trains, but once we made it to Euston station, eeeeeee, we boarded the Caledonian Sleeper.

There has been an Anglo-Scottish sleeper service under various guises since 1873, meaning the Caledonian Sleeper is celebrating it’s 150th birthday this year. Happy Birthday guys!

I suspect the rolling stock and accommodation has changed significantly since then. Mostly for the better, though there is a lot less in the way of wood paneling, dinner jackets in the dining car and small mustachioed detectives than I would secretly have liked. There is just something so glamorous about the idea of a sleeper train, even if you’re only heading to Aberdeen.

The room was small, but I thought quite well appointed with little storage spots by the bunk for your phone and plenty of USB ports and plug sockets. Our only complaint was actually from Mr Gem, who was on the top bunk and said that the padding was missing on the ladder steps making them a bit sharp on bare feet. It also had an en suite bathroom with an exciting shower over toilet arrangement. We didn’t use the shower, so I can’t confirm it’s effectiveness or how wet everything else will get.

We retired to the dining car to eat an extremely tasty (and quite expensive) dinner, drink some wine and eye up all of the other guests in case we were called upon to decide who was the prime suspect in a murder.

We then headed off to our little cabin to settle in for the night. I had an exciting adventure when I was brushing my teeth as the train pulled into a station and came face to face with a slightly confused woman standing on the platform, but once we were in our bunks it felt pleasantly calm. The rocking of the train was quite soothing. I didn’t sleep incredibly well, it was a bit of an odd experience, but the bed was comfy and I was perfectly content.

If anything I wish the journey was longer as I didn’t feel hugely inclined to leap out of my cosy bunk at 7am the next morning when a slightly disappointing over cooked sausage sandwich and an instant coffee was delivered to our room. But leap I must, as 2 days in Aberdeenshire visiting Mr Gems Mum & Dad were ahead.

The Delights of Ellon

I don’t truly have a lot to report from this bit of the trip. Mr Gems Mum & Dad moved from an incredibly remote but incredibly gorgeous farmhouse to a bungalow in the village of Ellon just before the pandemic hit. This meant this was the first time we’d got to visit them in their new home.

Ellon is a lovely little village about half an hours drive from Aberdeen. I think it gets a fair selection of people who work on the oil rigs staying, as the Hotel we were at (The New Inn) had a selection of people in yellow fluorescent jackets checking in, who were all gone by the time lazy gits like us got up for our breakfast (delicious, thanks) at 9:30am.

We visited a nice zero waste store and bought some Kombucha and a very quiet Sports Direct because Mr Gem forgot his hat. We also visited a Charity Barn where we found this terrifying wooden lion which I now wish I had bought home with me, had lunch at a nice cafe and visited the Man Shed where Mr Gems Dad goes to make things out of wood.

Then we cadged a lift off Mr Gems Gen Z niece to take us back to Aberdeen for the next part of the adventure.

The Tale of the Stinky Train

This part of the adventure started with just the most surreal train ride ever. We got on at Aberdeen and sat ourselves in a little pair of seats right by the luggage rack. In front of us, in another pair of seats, was a woman sat on her own. Across the aisle was a man sat alone and in front of him another solo woman.

At the next stop a woman got on with a couple of huge bags, someone helped her get one into the luggage rack and she said she had to stay close to them. She asked the guy across the aisle where he was going, and when he said Edinburgh she sat herself down in the spare seat and shoved her other ginormous bag in the foot space.

After a few minutes a repulsive smell drifted through the carriage. We thought maybe it was drains and the train toilet was particularly disgusting. Until we realised that it was not only at the other end of the carriage, but after paying it a visit it was as clean and fragrant as you would normally expect from a train toilet. Which isn’t very, but not smelly enough to induce nausea in people seated a whole carriage away.

Then our new passenger with the huge bags started engaging her seat mate in conversation. A conversation he evidently wasn’t super keen to be having as he kept saying he was tired. He said he came from “down south” (It was Leeds, that’s up north to me.). All of us surrounding passengers silently praised the transport gods that we weren’t sitting next to a chatty stranger. We’re British, unless there’s a dog or someone drops some glassware we don’t interact, ok.

But there was still that smell. We wondered if it was the village we just went through, maybe it was a fishing village? Full of very stinky fish?

When our new train buddy realised that her seat mate didn’t want to chat she whipped out her phone and conducted a loud face time call with a friend, all in a language I couldn’t eavesdrop on (rude).

And then we realised. THE SMELL WAS COMING FROM THE GINORMOUS BAGS. I don’t know what was in there. I suspect fish of some kind, whatever it was, it was very stinky. Mr Gem and I shared some minty lip balm which we rubbed under our noses to fend off the smell like we were in Silence of the Lambs.

At this point I was starting to wonder if there were hidden cameras, maybe it was some kind of social experiment to see just how far you could push a train carriage full of British people before they snapped? The worst thing was she seemed lovely, she made polite conversation, asking about other peoples lives, leapt up to help a woman who’d dropped her scarf and generally seemed like an all round nice person, just not someone you want to be shut on a train with her stinky bags.

Then she decided to keep herself entertained by scrolling through what seemed to be Instagram Reels, WITH THE SOUND ON. I don’t have the sound on in my own house. We were treated to flashes of crying babies, sirens blaring, honestly I really was looking for the cameras now. Then I saw the woman in the seat in front of her look like she was about to explode in fury, and just as I was plucking up the courage to ask her if she could turn the volume down Mr Gem leaped to all our rescue and asked her if she had headphones. She apologised and turned it off (see I said she seemed nice) and then departed at the next stop, taking her stinky bags with her. Presumably the social experiment had now reached it’s conclusion.

As soon as she departed the 5 of us in the surrounding seats instantly sighed with relief and bonded over our shared experience in a very not at all British way. The guy she sat next to was heading home from the Oil Rigs and hadn’t slept for 24 hours so was very tired, the woman in front of him had an autistic child and found the Reels particularly exasperating as this was her quiet time. But we all agreed this was a train journey to remember.

It’s low on photos, but next time you’re on the train journey from hell just think “It could be worse, I could be sitting next to someone with a bag of dead fish”.

The Witchery

Well, where do I start?

IT’S AMAZING! If only one night here didn’t cost about the same as our whole months mortgage I’d go back a lot. It was fabulous.

I think I first saw The Witchery restaurant in a magazine at some point in the late 1990s and decided that when I was grown up I would definitely go there. So I’ve been eyeing it up for many, many years and it did not let me down.

We stayed in the Tower Suite, which is up a glorious, if slightly troublesome if you have mobility issues, flight of spiral stone stairs. It has windows overlooking the Royal Mile with a distant view of the river estuary.

It also has a big gold bath, like a REALLY big gold bath that I couldn’t find the bottom of when I tried to step in, a separate shower room, big squishy chairs, a 4 poster bed, velvet hangings and sash windows that make you feel you are living in 17th century gothic fantasy.

It also has a bottle of champagne, swish chocolates, Penhaligon toilteries, bathrobes and slippers, a fancy coffee machine, Alexa to play you soothing music, a Dyson hair dryer and a TV that’s hidden in the windowsill so as not to ruin your gothic fantasy. I was very happy.

We had cocktails in the restaurant and checked out the most expensive bottle of wine (£8,000, I don’t even have a credit card I could put that on) and went out for dinner, then came back to find all the blinds drawn and the bed turned by our very own Jeeves.

The following morning our very own Jeeves bought us a hamper containing a continental breakfast. We all know that normally means a dry croissant and a glass of orange juice. Not at the Witchery it doesn’t. At the Witchery we had apple and orange juice, fresh coffee, a fruit platter, meats and cheeses, yoghurt, cereals, assorted pastries, hot rolls, jam and butter, delivered in a wicker hamper and all set up on our very own private dining table.

And then apparently I had to leave. I hadn’t even sat on all the chairs and I’d only had 1 bath and 2 showers. It wasn’t enough!

Edinburgh and the Journey Home

And, if you made it this far, is pretty much the end of the adventures.

We checked out of our room at 11am and left our bags with the hotel. Our train didn’t leave till gone 11pm, so we had a long day ahead of us. A day in which we had considered all kinds of exciting activities we could do, but in the end I was very tired, so we wandered around some shops buying tat and visited a Makers Market.

Frankly we were stuffed from breakfast, but we had a light lunch in The City Cafe which was recommended to me by someone on Instagram, then I sat and enjoyed a beer overlooking the Castle while Mr Gem did some more tat shops in order not to miss any quality tat. Like, for instance, this exciting Highland Coo that I bought near the Castle because I missed my Puggie babies.

We stopped for Cocktails at a couple more Instagram recommendations. Hoot the Redeemer, is a cool bar below street level with a fairground vibe. There’s a fortune telling machine set in the door way and it sells alcoholic ice cream, as well as the chance to play one of those grab machines and let fate choose your cocktail. If you ever visit, take cash, as the machines take £1 coins, which we did not have so we could not play.

Then we had a couple of cocktails in The Dome. The Dome is an old bank converted into a restaurant and cocktail bar. I wish we’d eaten there the night before. It has a marble lobby which made Mr Gem ashamed of his t-shirt, huge floral displays and a magnificent glazed dome above the central bar. The cocktails were lovely and there were little lamps on our table like an episode of Poirot. I liked it here.

And then, short on funds and energy, we picked up our bags, bought a sandwich and a bottle of wine in Marks & Spencer and then headed to the Caledonian Sleeper lounge which was in the Scotsman Hotel across from the train station. We watched Taskmaster on our tablet, then boarded the train and headed straight off to sleep as it was nearly midnight and I turn into a pumpkin if I stay up that late.

And there we are. All that’s left is granola in our room because we were too lazy to go to the dining car at 6am, an hour drinking coffee in Victoria station, a train ride, a lift home from my Mum, some Pug snuggles (I don’t think they noticed we’d gone) and a huge chinese takeaway in my Mum & Dads house.

And there the adventures ended. For now…