Blog Archives
Highland photo journal, part 4- Applecross (a foodporn installation)
I promised foodporn…. but I also have to share my journey here and the provide a bit of background on the place that makes me happiest in all the world.
Having returned to Mallaig, we just managed to catch the calmac sailing to Skye. Here’s our little adventurercar on board.
We skipped across Sleat and off over the bridge.
It may seem a long way round to sail to Skye, drive through it, then off again over the bridge, but it was much quicker than driving up over the mainland.
On arrival at Applecross we set up camp and made a spot of lunch using the local hot smoked salmon.
Yes, it was pretty amazing.
We then headed straight for the Potting Shed in the Walled Garden for carrot and walnut cake and a glass of wine. The garden was looking beautiful, even in the light of the slightly greyed skies.
The last time we were here was in March when everything was suffering after the harsh winter. It’s hard to believe the garden could have recovered, so it was nice to see how lush and colourful it was. It looked like a scene from a fairytale.
The hangover
I must be about 8.2 on the Teucheter-scale today. I would have been about 8.9 on friday night but I’ve managed to bring it down a notch or two to a less catastrophic state.
Celtic Connection festivities lived up to expectations. After checking into our 12th floor, ahem, “penthouse” room the evening got underway with that most traditional of Scottish beverages, and one of my all time favourites- The Daiquiri. Well, washed down with a side of chilli and parmesan chips and it’s a definite Celt-Cuban classic! This was followed by…another Daiquiri but this one was in the grand surroundings of the Blythswood Hotel- not a deep fried tatty in sight. After a bit of eavesdropping on some lovies who swore blind they new best friend was the manager of the Black Eyed Peas (really?…but really though?) we moved on to line our stomaches before doing some serious damage. Anyway, we weren’t friends with anyones manager so clearly were not going to fit in. Not with the kind of night we had in mind.
Devouring Scotland 