Superglued to the sofa...

So Gail and I arrived home in Aberdeen on Saturday evening, after ending our big trip abroad with a pleasant couple of days staying with friends in Yorkshire.

Over the past two weeks I have travelled on or in the following:

• 24 trains* in 3 countries 
• 2 ferries (Stena Line, from Harwich to Hoek van Holland and back) 
• 2 cars (in Bavaria and Yorkshire)
• 2 urban metros (Hoek van Holland to Schiedam and back) 
• 1 cable car (Breitenberg Bahn) 
• 1 bus (no. 46 York to Pocklington)

At all times I was a good boy and was never sick.

I think I now deserve some sofa time...

*The trains were: (1) Aberdeen to Newcastle, (2) Newcastle to Newark North Gate, (3) Newark Castle to Nottingham, (4) Nottingham to London St Pancras, (5) London Liverpool Street to Harwich, (6) Schiedam to Rotterdam, (7) Rotterdam to Utrecht, (8) Utrecht to Köln, (9) Köln to Mainz, (10) Mainz to Darmstadt, (11) Darmstadt to Augsburg, (12) Augsburg to Buchloe, (13) and (14), Buchloe to Biessenhofen and back, (15) Landsberg am Lech to Kaufering, (16) Kaufering to Buchloe, (17) Buchloe to Augsburg, (18) Augsburg to Düsseldorf, (19) Düsseldorf to Utrecht, (20) Utrecht to Rotterdam, (21) Rotterdam to Schiedam, (22) Harwich to London Liverpool Street, (23) London Kings Cross to York, (24) York to Aberdeen.

Home alone bored...

We were having such a lovely time over in what I shall now call the Costa del Torridon, I really don't understand why Gail had to drag us back to Aberdeen, where I find myself sitting bored at home waiting for her to return from work and entertain me.

Well today I have set myself the task of selecting my favourite eight photos from our recent four day jaunt across Scotland. There are loads of pictures to choose from, but as Gail has given me a free paw in the selection, you can rest assured they will all be featuring your truly front and centre.

Here I am, sitting nicely aligned with the Glenmuick Church in Ballater. We stopped there on the way to Torridon, and I scored big time 'cos the cheese scone Gail ordered in the nearby café turned out to be yesterday's so she gave me half of it, as I don't at all mind dry scones (especially cheesy ones).

On arriving at the cottage we took an evening stroll. This photo was taken at around 10 pm.

And here's me being, well, just being me, standing amongst some bog asphodels ( the little yellow flowers), although it has been so dry lately that the poor asphodels were missing their bog.

I have to say I was not so keen on sitting on this memorial bench, just up the road from our cottage, even if the temperature was over 25ºC. Please someone find a comfy cushion to cover the hard Torridonian sandstone.

You might wonder what's been happening on the hillside behind the bench. Has some dog been destuffing a monster toy? No of course not - look closer! The cotton grass is abundant this year - despite the lack of rain.

For variety, I have here included a photo of me asleep at Gail's feet, in the front garden of the cottage, taking a break from all the strenuous "sit nicely Bertie" business.

So  I was fully recovered, and on top posing form when Gail spotted this photo opportunity at Grudie, on the way home to Aberdeen.

Finally, knowing I was shortly to be cooped up inside for a few days, I gave my ear flaps a good blast of sea air on the beach at Nairn.

OK. I'm bored again now. What's next?

P.S. It turns out that what's next involved Gail and me and going round to Yvonne and Neil's house to watch the TV. There were a lot of men in red or yellow shirts running around kicking a ball and it all culminated in much jubilant shouting.

What, no doggy bag!

Well Bertie my dear bouncy little pal, did you miss me when I was down in Nottingham this week?

Oh Gail, of course I did! Let me come and have a cuddle on your lap. I only pretend to prefer staying with Neil and Yvonne you know. But I want to hear about Thursday. Did you see lots of your friends and relatives? Please tell me that my poodle cousins Coco and "Fat Boy" Percy were not invited to Human Granny's funeral service.

Rest assured Bertie it was a humans only affair, at the church and in the pub afterwards. 

I believe it is usual to offer refreshments on these occasions? Sausage rolls and maybe even pork pies (after all Nottingham is not a million miles from Melton Mowbray). I don't suppose you brought a doggy bag back with you, by any chance?

Oh dear Bertie, I would have done, had the funeral guests - whose number exceeded our predictions by some margin - not scoffed the lot, down to the very last ham and pickle sandwich. I must say I admire your optimistic spirit, and am sorry to disappoint you. 

Well never mind Gail. I am so glad that lots of people showed up to pay their respects to my wonderful Human Granny, and I'm guessing all that hymn singing and praying and listening to tributes gives one a good appetite. But I notice you are looking tired.

Bertie you are a sensitive and observant wee chap. How about we go for our evening stroll around the block, and then turn in early tonight?

Suits me! Shall I tell you a secret? I sleep so much better when I can rest my little head against your leg. It's nice to have you back home in Aberdeen.

It's nice to be back Bertie, it really is.  

Home sweet home

Cuddles and ear scritches are all very well…

…but I am absolutely going to insist on a visit to the bar at Inverness railway station very soon.

(We all knew these so-called "cycling trips" were just a front, didn't we?)

PS Can you believe Gail is now making rude comments about my personal hygiene and saying I must have been doused with some special "antidote to kennel odour" spray before I was released from Fairways Pet Haven...

Images from the long, long journey home to Aberdeen

Up early to catch the train in Lugano

But not too early for the Swiss army cadets to be enjoying a beer (or several)...

As we enjoy scenic views of Lake Lucerne from the train window.

 In a park near Zurich Hauptbahnhof I meet 'Amigo', the first WFT I've seen since leaving the UK.

We change trains again in Frankfurt,

Where we are reminded of home.

After an overnight stay in Utrecht,

We say hi to a furry fellow passenger on the Sunday morning train to Amsterdam.

Gail and I are both by now feeling a little travel weary

But we are encouraged by seeing this poster.

At IJmuiden we say goodbye to continental Europe

And take the overnight ferry across the North Sea to Newcastle

Where I am less than impressed with my accommodation.

 Monday morning in Newcastle and I am too tired to go exploring (yes really!)

Finally, late afternoon, we're home sweet home in Aberdeen.

What a wonderfully brilliant trip!

Home is where the heart is

So on the way back from Nottingham to Aberdeen we stayed overnight in 'The White House' - no not THAT one, rather, a modest guest house just outside Penrith. I'm sorry to report that the proprietor failed to recognise my status and so did not upgrade us from their  'too small to swing a cat' single bedroom this time.

There were signs aplenty of recent floods all round Cumbria and SW Scotland, but at least my favourite walk in the lovely little border town of Moffat was dry(ish).

I had been hoping for a nice hill walk in Aberdeenshire today, but for once will concede that Gail was right in decreeing a short stroll around the park to be sufficient, given the weather.

So instead, Gail and I are snuggled up together on the recliner, reading some old letters found in Human Granny's now empty house.

I want to show you a couple of snippets. Gail warns me they won't be as interesting to our readers as they are to us, but I'm going to post them anyway. If your eyes are good, and you click on the images to enlarge, you may even be able to read them.

Both letters, for different reasons, might bring a tear to your eye.

Here's one from Gail's maternal grandfather, to her mother (aka Human Granny, then aged 15), written when he was on active service for the RAF in Egypt at the end of WW2, but describing a trip to Palestine:

And here is one written by Human Grandad to Human Granny in 1955, just a couple of weeks before they became formally engaged. He is away at a work-related conference in Eastbourne, and missing her very much:

On returning to Scotland from Nottingham

No more flatland Trent-side walks
On claggy floodplain clay.
I'm back amongst the heather'd hills
The bonnie banks and braes.

Enough of dismal redbrick towns
And concrete urban sprawl
For now. I'm home, a home that's built
Of silver granite walls.

Goodbye to triffid pylons marching
Over hedgeless fields and wastes.
Hello to birches, burns and bogs.
I'm back. This is my place.

A new home for Human Granny and mixed emotions

I was all bouncing with delight to learn that Human Granny was finally coming out of the rehabilitation hospital this week. I've been so missing her fond pats and her calling me Petsy (no-one else does that). This house in Nottingham feels a bit empty when she's not here.

So then I felt sad when Gail told me that HGY is moving to a new home called 'Westcliffe', where she can be looked after night and day. Gail says it is for the best as she has been very ill indeed and even before that she was struggling so much after Human Grandad died.

Checking out the garden at Westcliffe

Has Human Granny really been so ill? Yesterday Gail took me to see her and she looked better than she has done for, oh, for ever so long. She was sat in a nice comfy chair in a bright room overlooking a well tended garden, reading the paper and appearing content. There were other old ladies in the sitting room, and one of them seemed friendly and gave my ears a rub and told Gail she was born in 1916.

Now relative youngsters like me are all about excitement and new experiences, but Gail tells me when you are older these things get harder, and she suspects Human Granny is wearing a brave face, something her generation are often good at.

But that is so much better than wearing a glum face isn't it?

I have my paws crossed that she will be OK.

Home Sweet Home

Oh it is nice to be back in the familiar routine after a week of travel and disruption.

Of course I wouldn't for the world have missed meeting up with my dog blogging friends.

 And I did get to go out and spend time with HGD, even if there are no pictures of us together this time.

I was rather upset when, no soon as we'd returned to Aberdeen, Gail immediately went gallivanting off to a wedding.

I don't understand it. Why would anyone want to get married in a romantic Scottish castle in a beautiful secluded glen if NO DOGS were allowed to attend?

Or at least that's what Gail told me and I believed her (about the NO DOGS thing) until I saw this photo.

And I'm not sure it helped when Gail said that I would probably (only probably!) have been quieter during the church service that a certain cute little two year old 'flower girl'...