Pitlochry is possibly the only place on planet Earth where you can buy a
bowl of 'Haggis, Neeps and Tatties' soup. A liquid Burns Supper. It's
not a traditional soup passed down the generations from Pictish
times, but more a piece of gastronomic tourist tat that would rival the
deep-fried Mars bar. It is a soup that says everything about the town,
exemplifying its character and role as both a feeding station and a
provider of tartan knick-knacks for the tourists, of which there are
plenty. I would not be surprised to arrive in Pitlochry many years hence
to find the main street replaced by a 500 metre-long feeding-trough
where visitors could simply dook their head and take their fill of some
heederum-hoderum gloop (and if anyone knows what 'heederum-hoderum'
means, or even how to spell it, please let me know).
But, of course, the main thing about Pitlochry is that it is surrounded
by the sort of awe-inspiring scenery for which Scotland is famous. There
are hills, there are mountains, there are heather-clad slopy bits,
leaping salmon and soaring eagles, and midges that drop from trees on
suck you dry of all bodily fluids. But don't let that put you off.
I think if I were to say but one thing that was not frivolous, to make
see how special Pitlochry actually is, it would be this: in my little
guide book to Scotland, there is a small piece of heather that has been
placed inside by a traveller long ago. It is the only piece of heather,
and it has been placed at the Pitlochry page. That's how special
Pitlochry really is. A place you will want to remember forever.
HISTORIC HAMLET OF PORT-NA-CRAIG
THE OLD MILL INN, PITLOCHRY
You can get a train to Pitlochry from Edinburgh or Glasgow Queen Street