Four go to Glenelg

In our first foray further than Edinburgh since lockdown, we have ventured north to the cottage.

DJ Lachlan got the front seat for the drive up so he could manage the sounds. I was consigned to the back with Lyra and a blankie as dog car sick monitor. It was a slow trip north, lots of traffic on the roads, but Lyra, though looking peaky from time to time, resting her head wearily on my (by now numb) arm, held it together to everyone’s relief.

A walk to the beach before dinner seemed the perfect antidote for a wearisome journey. Lots of sheep strolling about the road. They have been clipped and look strangely solemn with no curls. Lyra was keen to make friends so a short lead was the order of the day. We thought at the beach it might be OK to let her loose but failed to factor in the beach sheep, who were lurking in the long grass. A spirited steeplechase ensued. The sheep made the running, jinking in and out of tufts of rushes and clattering over the pebbles. Lyra, to save face, decided the sheep were not actually that interesting and wandered back with an innocent expression. The lead was firmly reattached.

We sauntered to the pub in the siling rain that evening, unsure of what the Covid arrangements would have done to the atmosphere. However, it was warm and convivial and the food was excellent. In our assorted masks we exuded highwaymen on holiday.

Yesterday we took easily. We wandered to the beach and poked in the rock pools, finding a huge jellyfish, and played pooh sticks on the bridge. Lyra continued with her sheep familiarisation programme. She now associates loose sheep with sitting down and tripe sticks.

Today we went down the forestry track to Sandaig, thinking that there would be no pesky sheep so Lyra could have a run off the lead. It seems to have been a popular thought as we met a good few dogs on the way down. Much jovial bum sniffing.

We went the long way down, on the wide forestry track. Masses of ferns and heather dotted with yellow goats beard and hyacinth blue dots of devils bit scabious. Lyra ran hither and thither, jumping at insects and altogether having a whale of a time.

At the bottom there were some hardy souls swimming and yet more dogs to play with, splashing in and out of the water. As always I filled my pockets with interesting items for further perusal, gulls feathers, shells, seaweed, a bit of driftwood and a selection of rocks. As we went back the steep way, and over the rope bridge, I regretted the rocks slightly.

Lyra is now spark out and I am off for a bath.

Alas the Glenelg WiFi seems not to be up to pictures so I shall do a bumper gallery when we get back (assuming I can’t work it out before)