All aboard again ...

A couple of weeks or so ago, we had a text from #2 son; would we like to join them on PS Waverley for the penultimate cruise of the season? Not the whole trip, which they were doing, driving over from Edinburgh to join the ship in Glasgow and sail downriver to where we would get on at Blairmore, on Loch Long. Our trip with them would last only 3 hours or so ... And of course we said yes. Did it matter that we'd just come back from Edinburgh? Not a bit. Two big attractions - the family and the ship - were irresistible.

The morning was misty and positively damp. Text from son: Anna is cold. She's not wearing the right clothes. Can you bring a fleece? (The answer is of course I can - my wardrobe is full of them). Half an hour later, an apologetic phone call: Can you bring a second fleece? Catriona is cold too ....  And so we set off, bearing a bag stuffed with fleeces. We manage to park in Blairmore - there is not much provision since the lovely cafe opened - and go out the pier, rescued from oblivion by a private owner. A seal is swimming lazily in front of us, popping its head up ever so often to say "Phoc" . Waverley is already in sight, gliding across a glassy Firth towards us. Pushed back to avoid fatal injuries from hurled ropes, we scan the deck - and see, round the mast as before, the unmistakable sight of our family, two of whom are wearing Waverley hats ...

(I should explain about the hats. They are knitted by a woman who can often be seen seated against a funnel, knitting in red, white and black. My son had one as a child; he has it still, though he wasn't wearing it. His wife and younger daughter had tried to buy them in the Purser's shop, only to find they were sold out - and then the knitting one handed in two. They were on the girls' heads without even reaching the shelf. And my French daughter-in-law is the only person I've ever seen looking glamorous in a Waverley hat.)

We had  a glorious time. Both granddaughters to talk to, the sudden appearance of #2 son's godfather for a reunion and a long chat, the glassy surface of Loch Long in the varying light as the sky cleared slowly, the green of Loch Goil on a brief detour - it was intoxicating. I took far too many photos; I shot videos as we reversed towards Arrochar to get as close as possible, I gazed up at The Cobbler in the Arrochar Alps and through the gap to Ben Lomond on the port side after we'd turned. A former pupil hailed me in the galley - the second time this has happened to me on ships this summer. I drank my fourth beer of the summer - I only seem to do it on Waverley. 

When we arrived back at Blairmore, a wedding party occupied the pier, having photos taken against this crazy backdrop. A drone flew over us as we disembarked. A quick phone call revealed that my bestie was in fact at the end of the pier, walking the dog. We cadged a cup of tea off her, walking back along the road to her house as Waverley sailed off back up the Clyde and my family went below for fish and chips. 

I am completely exhausted, but utterly content. 

Extra of son, belle-fille and younger granddaughter - and those hats!