A Trip in the Homeland

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XX, Issue 245, 4 October 1930, Page 14

A Trip in the Homeland

Cities, Lakes and Mountains

A New Zealand girl in London, writing to “Olive,” gives an interesting account of a motor tour around the Scottish and English lakes. The following are some extracts from her letter.

“At 10 a.in. we set off in the car. Right through London first—through Edgeware road and St. Alban's and then,—the Great North road of which I have read so much. Wo stopped for lunch by the wayside, in a meadow of ripo corn and scarlet poppies. The poppies were out .all along the road and every second field was a glorious blaze of scarlet. On again till tea-time and another meal by the wayside. At 9 o’clock we found a dear little white hotel in a village on the side of a river—The Three Greyhounds at Boroughbridge. The village was truly English—small, and clustered round the village pump. “Next morning we left the Great North road anel took country roads through Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, for we were making for Hebburn-on-Tyre, then on to Edinburgh.

“We saw quite a lot of Yorkshireall moors, and stone walls winding over the hills. Through Cumberland, a more beautiful county, to the borders of Scotland. You climb Up from Cumberland to a high ridge called Corter Bar and from there you have your first view of Scotland. We had tea on the hillside above Galashiels, bv a stone wall, and with Scotch heather and scented briars giving us the first whiff of the breath of Scotland. Wo passed several of the beautiful old border abbevs which were sacked by Henry VIII Jelhurgh Abbey particularly must have been lovely.

“LOVELIEST CITY IN THE WORLD.’’

“Then at 7 p.m. we arrived in Edinburgh—the loveliest city in the world, they say, and I quite believe them. We went to Hollyrood Castle and round Arthur’s Scat—a high hill from which vou get a lovely view of the town. Then round by the 'Varsity and out 10 miles to the Forth Bridge (of which more later). It was 11 n.m. nnd the skv was light, and beautifully coloured. Then back to the hotel for supper, and so to bed. “Next morning we set off for the Castle which we explored thoroughly —specially the war memorial shrine, which is the most wonderful in the world. It is perfect in every detail—an everlasting monument to the glory

of the Scottish nation and is the 'Flowers of the Forest’ crystallised into stone. SCOTTISH LOCHS. “On the way through Callander, a wee village by the side of a lake, we stopped and ordered tea for 7.30, then went ou to Loch Katrine. It is a wonderful run through woods and winding roads and weo burns. We went for a walk round the loch and picked heather which was making the hills and cliffs purple. When we got back to Callander we were all hungry, so you can Imagine that we did justice to the real Scottish tea set down before us—fish from thelake and hot sooncs, pikelets, oatcake, and home-made butter! “We had a lovely run round Lochearnhead and through Crieff and Taymouth, and after lunch we set off to the Western lochs. We stopped at Inveraray and bought Scottish tartan tam-o’-shanters and some food. Farther on round the road which ran along an arm of the sea on the west coast, we stopped for a meal. J. and I went into a tiny cottage to get some hot water, and we met a most unusual cottage man who spoke of the death of Conan Doyle and discussed his books and spiritualism most interestingly. After tea we drove on through Arrochar. along Loch Long over to Loch Lomond. The lochs are beautiful and very like New Zealand, for there are hills and woods to the water s edge. SOUTHWARD BOUND. “Later we went south through Glasgow—a dreadful town, full of novelty. It was extraordinary to see the clothes hung to dry across the public streets and in the parks, with a woman or a child standing guard over their own particular lot. We stopped at a little village called Lesmagow for lunch, then away on down to Gretna Green, where we inspected the blacksmith’s shop and talked to the man who conducts the marriages. It is a quaint old place and well worth seeing. “By driving pretty fast we managed to get to Keswick on the English lakes before it was too late. We stayed at Milcrests Manor Hotel there—a most beautiful old manor house with a wonderful entrance hall, and brass antiques everywhere. The old man who owns it is a dear and shakes hands with you and welcomes you in, and his daughters run everything. It is just like a lovely home., There are 169 acres of beautiful gardens and terraces and orchards and greenhouses, and you can just roam where you like and do as you please. “Keswick is a beautiful old town on the edge of Derwentwater, and we explored it thoroughly—miniature golf course, rowing on the lake, and all sorts of sport, so we had a gay time there. We came down past Grassraere and Thirlmere, Bvdal Water (a perfect little gem of a lake), and Windermere, where Sir Henry Segrave was killed. Then on to Doncaster, where we spent the night.” She concludes by saying that all the interesting and lovely things sien on the trip would fill a book.