Strathyre’s Rosebank House proprietress Mal Dingle is picking me up in nearby Callander.
She’s 5’8” and hearty, gray hair elegantly fringing her face, delivering the anticipated accent without theatricality or irony.
Will she give into it? After decades of familiarity with Scotland? After leaving for art school in London, finding love and fortune and returning to funnel her life into B and B work mode?
The abbreviated definite articles and the word “wee” emerge from her with sincerity. Her love of Scotland and for looking after people is genuine. She txts me twice as my bus approaches it’s destination. When I disembark, she wants to know how I am “getting on.”
“It is so beautiful up here,” I say, “I can’t stop smiling.”
I do not intend to come to Scotland. My international invitations for 2011 include an artist’s colony and English-only dude ranch in Japan, some gay-owned B and Bs in Germany, and a sober, vegan commune off the coast of Vancouver.
Somehow, a guy from the Scottish travel board and a college classmate prevail upon me. Mal invites me to stay in the Forest Suite while her sister, my Facebook friend, is also visiting. The last pieces of the journey come together as I am boarding my flight from SFO.
It’s an unusually sunny two weeks. No one can remember the weather being this clear for so long. “Did you bring it with you?” Mal asks.
It is probably a good thing the Scots can only count on a few hours of cloudbreak a day: the sun is brighter up here.
The clarity of the sun, the intense light, generates, to my eye, greater color and detail. I tromp through gorse and under budding rowan in the sun. In the shade, my open hands brush against ferns, mosses, lichens, and mushrooms. My eyes are fully dialated: I’m tripping on nature.
Across from Rosebank, cyclists tour and walkers stroll either side of the River Balvag. Mal’s Mountain Room overlooks both paths.
The Rose Room, Garden Room, and Forest Room (where I am booked) look onto a garden of red azaela and other bedding plants. There is a cast iron picnic area for socializing and a quaint log cabin for solitude.
(above top to bottom)
The spacious Forest Suite, huge key fobs won't get lost while you recreate, a view of the village from the bathroom skylight.
In inclement hours, guests can get close to the elements from the comfort of a glassed in gazebo on the second floor. Alternatively, Rosebankers can tipple a few in the comfy lounge fully distracted by DVDs, television, wi-fi, books, or games.
This weekend, I have the pleasure of meeting two of Mal’s first customers. Roger comes back frequently. It is typical for him to bring three of his pals from Yorkshire. William liked his inital stay at Rosebank so much, he basically moved in, so Mal always has at least one paying guest, like a lucky charm.
There can be a “wee” bit of confusion in the marketplace. Mal reports of at least five B&Bs named Rosebank House here in Scotland. This is the only Rosebank in Strathyre, however, and certainly the only one where Mal’s touch is evident.
The global hugback can be felt in pages of the guest book. I note visitors from South Africa, Florida, The Netherlands, and Japan on a single page. And daily guests from the U.K. are about mingling in the garden, the lounge, or at the breakfast table.
My days at Rosebank begin with a breakfast of vegan haggis, toast, juice, fried mushrooms and tomatoes. If the weather holds, I plan a hike up a Munro, Corbett, or a Graham. When it rains, Mal approaches me with suggestions for indoor activity day trips. Perth for shopping, Stirling for history.
My nights are filled with games of Skat, quiet reading, and coffee-fueled chats. Mal says many of their guests become familiar friends. I look forward to my return as one of that number.
4 comments:
Wow ! What beautiful pictures Dale !! The best trips are unplanned. You need to market your smile :-) Be safe and enjoy the day/evening/hard life of a traveling blogger :-) Peace my friend.
Thanks Dennis!
Dale, in what universe is Mal 5'8"? More like 5'0". We are Munchkins down here, my favourite gentle giant.
Haha. Everyone is shorter to me! I did choose that height without fact-checking: bad boy blogger!
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