Mearns Country

I admit to being more than a little overwhelmed and touched by your response to my birthday blip yesterday. Your comments have been a boost to my morale and given me a welcome hoist towards the next rung of my metaphorical ladder of blipping.

We said our goodbyes this morning to our amazing hosts (you know who you are), and left Ballater by way of the 'Royal' Bakery in order to buy some loaves of Balmoral bread - a bread with a malty and nutty taste. His Lordship and I so appreciate being able to sit at the table of Kings even if it's only in eating the same bread.

There was a slight dusting of snow and some light snow showers as we drove from Aberdeenshire into Angus. We were heading home via the Drovers' Inn at Memus near Forfar to have lunch with yet another of his Lordship's cousins and wife.

This is Mearns country so beloved of Lewis Grassic Gibbon and immortalised in Sunset Song. It is a gentle arable land and with winter/spring ploughing under way, now that the snow has melted, it is a beautiful panorama of deep browns and greens and studded with stands of still skeletal trees.

The last three days have been a time when we could draw breath before the hustle and bustle of travelling to Egypt.
Now it's all hands on deck to make last minute arrangements and that includes trying to squash far too much into too little rucksacks!