I’m not one to boast, but here it is – I was out twice at the weekend. Twice. Two whole times. I didn’t cry off. I didn’t fall asleep and I had a lovely time both nights.
Not only was I out twice but on consecutive nights, too. I have another “two nighter” coming up soon and worry maybe last weekend was a fluke?
Friday was a ladies’ road trip to Pitlochry for a cheeky night away. Is there anything better than a road trip with loved ones when you have a full tank of petrol, great weather and a hotel room waiting at the end?
No rushing about, we had no plans other than dinner and drinks, the night was ours to do with as we wished.
The sheer joy of it all. No kids, no partners, no work. The hotel resplendent up on the hill in the sunshine. People relaxing at outdoor picnic tables, chatter, laughter and drinks.
We couldn’t wait to get checked in and head out, just as soon as we’d polished off our complimentary fizz.
Ladies ‘travelling light’
The hilarity started straight after check-in. We are ladies of a certain age. And, for just one night, we try to convince ourselves we’ve “travelled light”.
Lotions and potions. Medication. Outfits. What if it’s sunny? Will I be too warm? What if it rains, this is the Highlands after all – we could have snow. Trainers. Sandals. Cardigans. Coats. What if the hotel doesn’t have a hairdryer? Better pack that – and straighteners, too. You know, just in case.
Rooms 3 and 4 you say? We just go through the lounge, round the corner and up two flights of stairs? Great! Although not a deal-breaker, it did lead me to regret my “just in case” items as I lugged them up to our second floor rooms.
Having managed to ignore the eerie pictures on the walls, the next peculiarity was my bedroom door. It opened out the way. On to a narrow corridor. A giant red door stopper jauntily nailed into the ceiling to stop it bashing the wall any time it opened. How was I going to get out of my room without the fear of walloping some poor passer-by?
Then, greeting me inside my room was a toy lamb telling me to place it outside the door if I didn’t want to be disturbed. Well, the sign round his neck told me that – he didn’t actually voice it himself!
Poor wee lamb, if I’d done that he’d have been smacked by the door any time I opened it. My bathroom floor was on a downward slant and the taps didn’t work if you’d just flushed the loo, BUT it was clean and there was indeed a (warm) bottle of Prosecco waiting.
Fortunately I had a “just in case” cold bottle of fizz and some ginormous bags of crisps so, having not seen each other in a hot minute, we set about catching up properly.
Make-up and boys no longer hot topics, now replaced by the latest skin cream, remedies for hot flashes and when best to phone to get a GP appointment.
Hilarity continued over dinner and even more drinks which, naturally, resulted in us being tucked up in bed by midnight.
The hotel quirks continued when we were joined by an array of stuffed deceased animals the next morning in the breakfast room.
Strategically placed to allow for a feeling of constantly being watched, I felt like swiping a mini jam from the buffet to see if Mr Badger would spring to life and grass me up to the staff. He looked like the sort to tell tales.
Pitlochry itself was bustling with excitement in anticipation of Sunday’s Etape so we enjoyed a little people-watching from a nice beer garden we accidentally happened upon.
Most Scottish thing we saw
The most Scottish thing we saw was a fully kilted chap wandering towards a bench, swinging his bottle of Irn-Bru and Greggs sausage roll. We couldn’t work out if it was his lunch hour or a midday walk of shame.
Saturday evening was all about Eurovision and, although just as much fun, the hilarity due to tequila shots and dodgy outfits.
Those names will remain unprinted and photos unpublished. For our sake, as well as the children’s!
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