West Coasting
13 June 2016
Ben Pentreath
23 Comments
We’ve just got back from a wonderful, happy few days North.
We called in on the way up with our friend Issy in the Scottish Borders. Heaven.
June feels like May in Scotland. Spring lasts a long time. Just as Dorset is turning into that drowsy, dusty darker green of high summer, Scotland still feels fresh and bright and cow parsley overflows in the hedgerows.
Issy and Piers were about to leave on holiday themselves so to get out of their hair we went exploring. Floors Castle has a beautiful walled garden.
The greenhouses are heated and were growing nearly ripe grapes and peaches.
No photography in the house but I adored this interior of the 19th or early 20th century porte-cochere in stone and limed oak. Serene.
In the afternoon we wandered around Jedburgh and the beautiful abbey, ruined since the reformation.
Jedburgh is the perfect small town.
Still with shops that are called ‘Radio & Gramophone’ with signs like this.
Dog walking in the evening. London thoughts slipping away.
We got up early on Friday morning and left to find the lanes that the day before had been bathed in warm sunshine were covered in thick fog.
But the mist slowly cleared and we had a fine drive across to Glasgow, and up to Helensburgh for a brief stop at Mackintosh’s Hill House.
Beautiful. And then on north, to darkening and dramatic skies.
We stopped for a little while in beautiful Inveraray….
And day dreamed about buying a small cottage somewhere in Scotland, looking a bit like this I suppose:
As we arrived at the Mull of Kintyre, nearing our destination, it began raining. That is Scotland for you.
But as we arrived at Saddell and found our way to the little cottage we were staying in for three days, it cleared (which is also Scotland for you). The place was beautiful. I’m sure many readers know it already, from the Landmark Trust, and doubtless many will have stayed and know what I mean by a little slice of heaven. 
Clouds rolled off the mountains across the water, on the Isle of Arran.
The next morning we visited Campbeltown, which like all port towns has fine bones but a nicely roughish exterior.
And then to Southend and Carskiey, dreamy.
We returned to Saddell and took a little walk up the beach, discovering first the magical sculpture by Anthony Gormley that was one a group commissioned by the Landmark Trust to commemorate its 50th anniversary last year. We were slightly expecting it would have gone in May, but wonderful that it was still there. It’s a serene piece, beautifully positioned.
Saddell is all about texture, colours and patterns.
The seal popped up while we played with Mavis on the beach…
Who spent much of her time running this way…
And that…
More patterns:
Wild fuchsia, 
and dark leafy dells.
The ancient castle is serene. You can also stay here with the Landmark Trust.
We walked up the drive to Saddell Abbey, 
Now a fragmented ruin, with a graveyard in the ruins.
Foxglove time:
Mavis is not entirely sure about the sea, still. This was as far as she was prepared to go.
And then we got home and found wood for the fire…
Charlie had been at work with the kitchen flowers:
Supper on our second evening…
Everyone wanted a seat.
Gormley at a rising tide.
The Isle of Arran had the sun that evening:
On Sunday we went wandering after breakfast.
Seals at Machrihanish.
but after a little while we came home and went rock pooling with Mavis.
Our little cottage is the tiny white dot to the left of the white house. The Castle in at the right.
We clambered over the rocks, 
and watched gannets diving for fish…
This is Saddell House, a fine classical house built in the 1780s, where you can also stay with the Trust. 
The long lazy afternoon was spent writing postcards, eating lunch, taking the odd walk and sleeping in the sunshine.
And then it was our last evening. 
The seal popped over to say goodbye.
And we watched great golden clouds rise over Arran.
It was a long way to go but the drive home was easy, the miles unfolding as we travelled back through Scotland and down through Cumbria and south. Saddell is the smallest slice of heaven; no phones, no computer, no wifi, nothing – in a sense – to do. Charlie went for the longest sleep on Sunday afternoon, which is completely unheard of in Dorset, where there is always something to do in the garden. Bliss. And really, the perfect place to completely and utterly unwind.
We arrived back in London, sad to hear the news of Orlando, which racks up as another atrocity in a world which I still contend is far more full of love and happiness, honour and decency than it is with hate.
23 comments on this post
Such beautiful pictures…Scotland looks magical. Thank you for sharing your journey.
Oh! Ben! I’m a Scot who lives in Queensland! Need I say more about these gorgeous photographs. I love how you both make things so special. That takes effort that brings its own rewards.
Being in Nature and setting a table on the beach is food for the soul!
Also, is the tablecloth featured in this post the same tablecloth from the last post? I must know where you got it!
After an absolutely horrible week here in the US, the post was like a balm for violence weary souls. Thank you, Ben, for the beauty!
It doesn’t get more romantic than your supper on the beach by the looks of it!
I love all the textures of the seaweed which are so beautiful in their own way.
Hope you got to try some cheddar too whilst you were up in the Mull of Kintyre, I’ve got an excellent piece on the go at the moment.
Hauntingly beautiful. Best, Nicola
Such a comforting post…thank you, Ben.
Supper on the beach, how magical!
Thank you for another spirit filled post. I am just in love with Mavis. My sweet English setter, Mae is the love of my life. If I had a few acres I’d find a black Lab to rescue into our family, too.
Such a lovely post and some of your finest photography ever! The portrait of Mavis on the rocks is absolutely regal. Thank you for fueling my dreams.
That was like aesthetic meditation! Read on a dull June morning in rural Canterbury, NZ. Astounded at the relaxing effect.
A lovely post, Ben. We are all sad here about Orlando. Nowhere is safe from hatred and madness. Although if there is such a place, it appears from your post that Scotland might be it. I love the final photo of the Gormley piece, with the grass and mountains, rocks and sea. Talk about spirit of place! The photo of Mavis on the rocks made me smile, she look so fearless and intrepid. The explorer in her element (even if she is shy of the sea.) And the wild fuchsia!! It looks like it should be in a tropical jungle. Beautiful. Thanks as always to you and Charlie for sharing your lives with us so we can gather some of your happiness too.
Hugs,
Diane
Thank you for such a comforting post. Great photos as ever.
What a marvellous blog post. What lovely photos, you really capture the essence and peace of your short break in beautiful Scotland. Thank you for sharing.
I’m 50% Scottish so this beautiful post moved me to tears. Thank you, Ben; and thank you too for your wise and true words about love and generosity. I’ve chipped in a bit to the fund for the Orlando survivors which has raised nearly $3 million in a single day from thousands of people. Here’s the link:
https://www.gofundme.com/pulsevictimsfund
Please delete if you think this is inappropriate, Ben.
What a wonderful weekend away. I just loved all the photos ESP the one with the grass between the rocks and the tiny pink flowers scattered throughout. I so look forward each week to your blog and an excuse to dream about another trip to the UK.
Every time I read your posts, I think to myself ‘Wherever they go, happiness gathers with them’. You truly are a couple who embrace life like an armful of country garden flowers. Thank you for sharing your moments so generously. I love Scotland too, an being a Northumbrian living in Warwickshire, miss it very much.
Well said about love, happiness, honour and decency Ben. I couldn’t agree more despite these appalling things happening. Your blog never fails to delight and refresh me. Good to see you, Charlie and Mavis are well and happy.
A friend (and former colleague in Hong Kong) owns or used to own the Spread Eagle in Jedburgh. The Roxburghe’s hame is awfy grand, and a bit surplus to requirements, even if you are a duke, but they only use a very small part these days. The Borders are enchanting, the West a bit too bleak for me, but a delightful change for you from your hectic life in the South. That’s quite a drive, but made easier if you share it. My husband doesn’t, so these safaris are a little more tiring, and a little less frequent. Clearly I shall have to engage a chauffeur.
Thank you for reminding us about the love and happiness part. It’s sometimes hard to see. But I had already thought I’d died and gone to heaven reading this post. Mull of Kintyre…isn’t there a song about that?
The little corrugated iron, seaside cottage looks very Kiwi; absolute bliss – everything.
Ben, you make me a little wistful. Your photograph of the two houses at the head of Loch Fyne shows our Scottish home Glaschoine on the left. We sold it after 13 years in March during which we renovated it from a very sorry state indeed and both it and it’s garden became a place of sanctuary from London and a splendid home for guests at many jolly and spirited weekends. East Sussex has so much to offer instead, where we now are, but the charms of a Scottish loch side retreat are well embraced. Glad you had the isolation from WiFi and all things weird about our violent world. You need it; it can fortify.