En Route to Stobo

….and so here we are once again, the distaff side of the family enjoying the pampering at Stobo Castle. I reckon this is the 9th time we have come here at this time of year when the trees are glowing in their autumn livery in shades of orange and red and the clocks go back an hour. It is no coincidence that the latter affords us an extra hour for our money!

We gathered in Peebles in time for some daughterly retail therapy before lunch at our chosen café. We seem to have acquired a routine over the years which works well. One member slips away at the end of the meal, ostensibly to check the car parking but is actually paying the meal bill confusing the next person who thinks she is going to slip off to the loo and pay the bill, only to find it’s been paid. Surprise all round! I meanwhile can allow this to happen with a clear conscience as I pay the Stobo bill. I tell myself that shrouds have no pockets.

We are now well and truly ensconced in the castle doing our own thing until we gather for drinks in one or another’s bedroom before dinner. It is usually my bedroom leaving the room maids thinking I’m an alcoholic when they discover the bottles in the wastepaper basket, but this year I’ve opted for a very small room incapable of seating 6 people, so I’m in the clear so to speak.