On the way to Fort William we stopped at the engineering wonder of Falkirk Wheel and walked back in time to what was briefly considered the boundary separating the civilized Roman Empire from the uncivilized heathen Picts further north. I’m not sure how much has changed, but we can’t wait to eat more smoked salmon, oatcakes, seafood and hopefully something green. I secretly hope to get Kurt in a kilt, but I don’t think he is very adventurous when it comes to fashion.
The genius of the Falkirk Wheel can be seen by clicking here. I still can’t get over the efficiency of this amazing engineering feat–it only takes the amount of energy required to boil 8 kettles of water. The children were mesmerized until they found the nearby water park that not only was great fun but also taught a few engineering lessons in the process of playing. AND, no one got wet! Phew.
We walked up to the Antonine Wall and thought the kids were going to have an apoplectic seizure with all the whinging on the way there and back. My theory is that allowing electronic devices in the car has them anxious to return to their dopamine fix. Why else would my kids be begging to return to another 3 hours bottled up in a car packed with luggage? Just doesn’t make any sense after watching them frolic around the old Roman fort like wood nymphs.
After the ‘strenuous’ walk, all 4 kids were rewarded with a go in the four available water walking balls. Unbeknownst to them they expended more kilocalories trying to stand up in these PVC bubbles than on their little hike, but that just meant that they were going to be subdued in the family wagon as we made our way up to Onich.
We did stop off for dinner in Balquhidder at Mhor 84. If Kurt and I didn’t have children with us I would have insisted we take time time to eat and stay for a respite at Monachyle Mhor, but alas, we are 6 and our behemoth of a self-catering house on Loch Linnhe awaited our brood. Maybe someday we’ll be able to return to Monachyle Mhor without children to have some venison neck, nettle crust, skirlie and wild sorrel for dinner and lazily sleep in on a dreich Scottish morning with a fire roaring…. someday. maybe.
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