With the weather cold but dry the Missus was keen to do one of her favourite walks: Glen Sannox. We did this on our way back from Kintyre last summer, so it would be interesting to see the difference in the seasons. However, there was a little shopping to be done first to replace the trousers that had been covered in slurry yesterday and which were now being treated like nuclear waste.
So we headed for Bilsland’s in Brodick where the Missus had spotted a sale was on. Shopping with me is a highly refined, efficient process and it was but a few minutes before the required lined trousers were located, tried on, and accepted as suitable. As I was going to be using them straight away there seemed no point in taking them off which led to the highlight of my weekend. I must warn those of a nervous disposition that you may find the following photograph upsetting.
The problem was that the trousers still had one of those security devices that need a special device on the counter to remove. So onto the counter I went, ably assisted by the wonderful lady assistant. You may be wondering why my Missus wasn’t handling this delicate matter: that’s because she was taking the photo with tears of laughter running down her face. This de-tagging process took longer than the original trouser selection: if you’ve seen nature documentaries of bull-seals gracefully moving around beaches, then I was Brodick’s equivalent. The lady put me at ease with the immortal “You wouldn’t believe how many men I’ve had over this counter!“. That’s how you buy trousers; and that was a great sales assistant!
So onto Glen Sannox. This was just an “up-and-back” walk on the excellent path 1 to the head of the valley and the foot of Cir Mhor. We had the place to ourselves and the scenery was even nicer than in the summer as the snow was accentuating all the curves and structures on the hills. It is possible to continue over the Saddle to Goat Fell but this involves a “scramble” that looks way too hairy for me, so I’ll probably leave that for another life-time 2.
It was during this wander that I heard something I never thought the Missus would utter: “Could you take a photo of me and Jazz?”. She is a paid-up member of the Photo-phobics Society so this came as a bolt from the blue, and without a glass of Chilean red to calm the nerves, I was left more than a little stunned. Obviously she has strict guidelines on how a photo must be taken 3:
- She must be facing Schiehallion 4.
- The photographer must come no closer that 30m.
- No telephoto lens.
So savour this rare glimpse of her distant pretty visage, along with some other shots of this lovely glen.
- If there was some sort of path-building competition, then this would be a worthy contender. ↩
- I’ve decided that I will be coming back as one of my own pets. I realise that this temporal recursion may mess with your head, but believe me, my pets have a great life and I intend to get a big dollop of it, so your pain is a minor inconvenience compared to my long-term pleasure. ↩
- I believe the medical term for this condition is “Nuts”. ↩
- As shown here and here. I’ve no idea why: perhaps because it is the centre of Scotland? ↩