The announcement was made on 8/2/1979 that the ice on the Lake of Mentieth was 8″ thick, so a Bonspiel could be held next day. Neither my husband nor I are curlers, but we resolved to take our children to see the rare spectacle.
The next morning dawned bright and windless. After a hasty breakfast and flurry of picnic making, we set off before 9am, snug in thermals and woollens.
Traffic was thick as we arrived in Aberfoyle, so we swung into the Rob Roy Motel, booked dinner and left our car. It was still a 3m walk to the Lake, but the children didn’t grumble – much!
The lake was like an unturned hive, with literally thousands of curlers spread out over the ice, calling to their teammates and inspecting their (over 600) pitches. They were a hearty throng, with many of the men in kilts. Hip flasks were much in evidence.
We watched the play for a while, then one of the children spotted a thread of walkers wending their way across the ice towards distant islands. What a wonderful idea! We knew that the largest island, Inchmahome, was the site of an ancient priory. Normally, one had to catch the Historic Scotland ferry at Port of Mentieth to visit it, but that wouldn’t be necessary today.
The ice was quite tricky to negotiate, for it was wind-blown into ridges – and studded with green goose poos. We bypassed a smaller island with a castle and headed towards Inchmahome’s prominent ruins.
A notice board on the beach gave lots of information. The priory was built by the 4th Earl of Mentieth in 1258 for Augustinian canons. It had many illustrious visitors in its day, including Robert the Bruce – three times – and four-year-old Mary, Queen of Scots, who took refuge here after the Battle of Pinkie.
We’d been fighting the English (who else!) over their wish to marry our little Queen to Henry VIII’s son, Edward.
We explored the tranquil, atmospheric remains of the priory first, then the rest of the island. The children were charmed to find three gnarled sweet chestnut trees that had been there in Mary’s day and also her boxwood bower.
We ate our lunch on the pier in the sun, then retraced our steps to the mainland. It was a delightful walk back. The view of the snowy mountains to the north was superb, the air was crisp, the low winter sun sparkled on the ice and skeins of geese flew honking overhead; Scotland at its best.
The match was still in progress, but we only watched for a little while since we wanted to get back to Aberfoyle before sunset. Over dinner, we learned that northern Scotland had narrowly defeated the south.
On the drive home, we all agreed that it had been a super day. We’d had perfect weather, watched some world-class sport and enjoyed a pleasant mixture of exercise and culture.
Grace Murray