Bassoon

Today the weather was rather better than forecast, but not first thing, when I gave Django a walk up the the Bracklinn Falls in the pouring rain. The natural compensation was that the falls were quite lively. The beech woods were also still pretty (see extra). Back in Callander, I decided that it was a good time to buy a new outdoor jacket.

As we drove over to Dunblane, the weather continued to improve, and we had a very pleasant wander around a town we've never previously visited. Coming to the top of a sequence of three steep tubular slides above the children's playground, I had to go down, only to be shot out of the end into a large puddle! I then took the second, which was fine, so A followed (see extra), only to end up with wet trousers on account of me having gone down in sodden tights! Fortunately we'd dried out by the time we had lunch, at a decent gastropub beside the river.

We'd stayed on in order to attend a bassoon concert in Doune, with the connection being through someone A knows through Blipfoto. The concert also told the story of the principal owner of the 100-year-old instrument being played, so it was more than just a collection of good tunes. And Django? He curled up at our feet for the whole 2.5 hours (see extra), except during the interval, when he turned therapet for someone with dementia.