This month in the Tao we have been mostly driving to Scotland

'10 hours minimum'

'12 hours'

'you'll spend the weekend sleeping in the car'

'never make it'

'what do you want to do that for?'

These were just some of the more positive comments that greeted us when we replied to the question "what are you doing for the Bank Holiday weekend", with "driving up to Scotland"

Undaunted and armed with mini Ken (the Sat Nav) and in 'Hans' the BMW Diesel (we have no kids or pets, so I am afraid we anthropomorphise like mad) we set off into the uncertainty of a Bank Holiday Friday on the roads of England.

My previous evening was not spent packing or preparing in the normal way for such a trip, instead the time was spent in a 3 way techno wrestle between my phone, the Sat Nav, and the prospect of receiving frequent and helpful travel announcements brought to us through this utopian electronic marriage of technology and utilising a free traffic update trail that came with mini Ken. At half past eleven, way past a sensible bedtime considering the amount of driving on the cards the next day, out of desperation I grabbed Tash's phone, turned on the Bluetooth and was given a faultless demonstration of the style that only happens while the salesman is handling such a product. My phone on the other hand sat on the desk in a sorry state, ineffectual and technologically flaccid, unable to rise to such a task. I commented to myself that getting older is not just about the thinning of my hair or an expanding waist line, it obviously is also about loosing my electronic mojo. Ohh well, Tash can read maps.

Contrary to our doom-predicting chums, our drive up country only took 8 hours, one more than the atlas said it would. The traffic congestion shed cars with every completed mile northwards, until we were barrelling along on our own past the magical Lindisfarne, cue, a very long conversation taking in early religious monks, Saxons, Vikings hordes and bands of the late 1960's. Ken kept on track almost the entire way only loosing his cool on an obviously new section of road outside Newcastle choosing to register his dismay by treating us to an comical asteroids (computer game) style interpretation of our route along this new stretch of carriageway.

This traffic update trail that we were using predictably turned out to be utterly useless by the way, choosing to tell me of the traffic jams only when I was in them, handy if I were the type to require constant reassurance of my surroundings but not very helpful otherwise.

Bright technological future 0 Luddite cave dwelling 1

We drove into Edinburgh just before 9pm and the sun was still high in the sky, I had forgotten how much of a difference 400 miles makes to the times of the sunset. We were staying in a hotel right on the main street, handy to find, but unfortunately Septic central. After dropping the bags off and in search of a good excuse to stretch our legs, the wife and I made the way out into the Scottish Friday night.

After two years of membership I am pleased to report that Natasha has finally experienced the delight of the Scottish Malt Whiskey Society. This started out as a present from her for my 34th birthday and has become a regular home from home. They have three 'Institutions' one in London and the two original ones in Leith and Edinburgh. As we relaxed in the big window beauty of the Edwardian members room I started to realise that two drams on no food was a mistake, compounded by the time/sunset difference. We managed to make last food orders in a charming Thai restaurant and then made our way back through town past all the 'throw outs' at closing time, passing, and I mention this for the simplicity of his action, a young boy standing next to his friend at a cash machine, who in one continuous sequence chatted, paused mid sentence, projectile vomited and then looked surprised. He looked surprised!!!

In leaving for Killin the next morning we were greeted by the site of our car being driven up to us by a 60 year old valet dressed in full highland outfit, 'Hans' will never look as classy again.

We were spending two nights in a converted fishing lodge, now managed by a South African team and advertised as an up market boutique hotel. As ever with such things there were signs that things were not as good as they could be, the road up to this loch-side marvel was a 7 mile assault course of pot holes and sheep, but the welcome was warm. At some time during Saturday evening Tash noted that there were far more staff than you would normally expect in a hotel, the reason for this became evident at about 10 minute intervals as we tried to relax after dinner, we were never alone. Increasingly over the next 24 hours we felt more and more spied on, forcing Tash into a typically rebellious reaction, to walk straight in to the Restaurant at breakfast, rather than wait to be escorted in - let me tell you, when we kick up a fuss, we really go for it!!!

On Sunday we chose to go out for a drive, Tash thought we'd go and see some lochs and nice countryside, I had something more Whisky based in mind. My plan was to drive out to Oban (they produce a wonderful 14 year old single malt) and then go from there. Oban had other ideas and the visitors centre was shut, so quickly we went to plan B;

I know' I said, not really aware of how far it actually was, 'we could drive down to the Mull of Kintyre, mist rolling in from the sea I desire', I helpfully continued, hoping that my lyrical overtones were having the right persuasive effect. We set off and quickly discovered that it was an 80 mile drive via single carriageway, 'oh well we have nothing else to do today' Tash commented. On route we stopped in Tarbert, a small fishing town on Loch Fynne, for a wee and some locally caught prawns, though not at the same time, I add. It took a couple of hours to get to Campbelltown, down on the headland (The Mull is the end of a peninsular) and we stayed for all of six minutes, a town past it's best. There are two Distilleries in the town and they were shut too, bringing my unofficial whiskey tour up to a luckless hat trick.

The Drive back up to Killin was the best part of the day for me, I raced a red Audi A6 2.8 most of the way back, great fun, I let him stay in front so I knew when the corners were coming up, so could drive faster (Hans likes a bit of a run) without looking like a late breaking muppet (and getting in to mucho Wife trouble) or putting the car in to a hedge.

On Monday we waved goodbye to Hotel Creepy, we would recommend it for a visit, you can even Seaplane it there from Edinburgh or Glasgow, but only for two days though, any more and you'd find yourself whistling the theme tune to 'The Great Escape'. The final stop was Glasgow, to see my friend Mark and meet his new girlfriend Tien. We drunk, we ate and hung out in some really cool bars before waking up in the morning to the sound of some child annoyingly banging on his parents door right outside of our bedroom, oh yeah, Mark and Tien went home, they weren't in the hotel room with us in the morning, thought it best to clarify that one. Anyway 'that little shit' as Tash likes to refer to the under 20's, presumably didn't appreciate being in a separate room to his parents and by the look of him, being just a little too young to have been told the facts of life, obviously didn't understand why his parents may have wanted their hotel room to themselves for a while. So on and on it went 'bang bang bang' on the door and then the high pitched whining of the youth, 'dad can I come in' , 'why can't I come in' , 'I wanna come in'. Then I heard the rustling next to me, then tutting and this devil child got to meet the early morning evil demon that occasionally inhabits the Misses.

After avoiding 'that family' in the breakfast room, we kicked off on the final leg of this Scottish odyssey home, all was going well until I spied a white van sitting on a bridge over the motorway and found myself involved in one of those, 'I wonder what that van is doing there' 'couldn't be a Police speed camera van, could it' , 'no, can't be' , 'oh hold on <break!>'...... I'll let you know how that on turns out. Lunch was a sumptious affair of two day old vegetarian lasagne for me and Tash favoured a full KFC work over, I only mention that because about three hours later I could see her wisdom in buying a two part meal (the extra burger she purchased was incase the Chicken wings were crap apparently), as you can see by the photograph, as we waited stationary on the M1 for 40 minutes due to some unfortunate vehicular mishap, she had something handy to take her mind off the wait.

And finally beacuse it amuses me......

Until next time then..... The first posting from the Tao of Ken!

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