When the Shoe Fiend and I left our cute little Bed and Breakfast in Balloch, it was raining. We soldiered on, though, and got an early start, driving around the coast of Loch Lomond.
I was driving, but both of us signaled last-minute stops. I would pull the car to the side of the road, and both of us would clamber out and take pictures of the incredible views. No matter how many times we stopped along the side of the lake, we never got tired of it.
Sometimes we stopped and went for little walks in the hill. Even the Shoe Fiend who, true to form, was wearing some great shoes, wasn’t afraid to take a walk in the mud if it meant more incredible views of hills, flowers, and the silver lake.
This particular walk made me feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland.
We stumbled upon the Falls of Dochart quite innocently, but we were blown away by the beautiful, diminutive falls.
Our last stop — before seeking out a place to sleep — was Balquhidder. I had seen on the map that it wasn’t too far, and I had wanted to see it ever since, about three years ago, my brother got me obsessed with this song, which I listened to non-stop as I waited to be called for Jury Duty. (I never was.) The experience far from ruined the song for me, and the Shoe Fiend and I were both pleasantly surprised by what we found.
From the ancient burial ground was a path leading up, and so up we went.
Until…
