Cluny House Gardens & Aberfeldy

On a warm Sunday morning we gunned up the A9 and cut across towards the Perthshire town of Aberfeldy. The A827 follows the course of the River Tay and we made a planned detour across to the other side via a narrow bridge. The small village of Grandtully has a major attraction for those of the sweet tooth disposition - the Highland Chocolatier! Iain Burnett trained under master practitioners of the Belgian, Swiss and French schools and is known for his world-class velvet truffle and range of spiced pralines. The premises include a chocolate counter, gift shop and a lounge-style café. We treated ourselves to a box of truffles and I bought a large-sized Dunoon China cat mug which I use regularly.

We also wanted to have a look at Cluny House Gardens which lay just a few miles distant. They had featured on a TV show and it looked like an interesting place. As we approached, I stopped the car to investigate a creaking noise coming from underneath. The exhaust had come loose and a couple of the steel pegs that attach to the rubber mounts had rusted through. It clearly needed attention and we abandoned our wider plans for the day and drove carefully back down the A9. In Dunfermline we pulled into Kwik Fit but they were booked solidly for days. One of the guys made a brief inspection and the exhaust pipe was now resting on the rear axle. This was now a job that couldn't be put off any longer so we took the car to our local garage in Cairneyhill and arranged a service as well. This also entailed a wait of several days as repair centres across the land were snowed under with work. A combination of staff having to isolate and a backlog of jobs being processed now that the work-at-home restrictions were finally relaxing. New tail pipe installed, we had a second run about a week later and this time drove straight to Cluny House. The chocolate truffles were indeed delectable but best regarded as an occasional treat. Slightly more expensive than Cadbury's! Cluny House has an extensive woodland garden and features some of the rarest plants in Perthshire. The layout was created by Bobby and Betty Masterton who took over the property in the 1950s. A few trees were already present: conifers, beech and oak. More notable were the two giant Wellingtonias that dominate the enclosure today. Although over 150 years old, these natives of North America are still youngsters as the trees can live for a millennium. As Welsh rockers Stereophonics sang on the opening track of their debut album "It only takes one tree to make a thousand matches, but only takes one match to burn a thousand trees". Let's hope these big beauties don't ever catch fire! The regeneration period would be rather lengthy. The Mastertons had a particular interest in Himalayan plants which thrive in Cluny's perfect growing conditions. Many of the seeds they planted are now large trees, such as the Tibetan cherry, notable for its mahogany peeling bark. Perennials that flourish here include lilies (some over 4m high) and Meconopsis (blue poppy). Since 1987 the garden has been cared for by daughter Wendy and her husband John Mattingley. Indeed it was John who met us at the entrance and to whom we gave our £5 admission fees. We spotted a red squirrel feeding by the car park as John outlined the highlights of the garden. Nicole asked if there were toilet facilities for visitors. As Cluny House is a private home, John explained they don't usually allow access to their bathroom but we were welcome to pee behind the woodpile on the fringe of the garden. Now, with an offer like that, you've to hold him to it!

The woodland garden is lovingly maintained and has been deliberately set up to attract a wide variety of wildlife. What's less obvious is just how much of an oasis it actually is. Cluny House and its grounds are hemmed in by a vast shooting estate, not a type of terrain known for its natural diversity. Highland Perthshire has huge tracts of grouse moor and this encourages a monoculture to develop where previously many sorts of flora and fauna would have successfully co-existed. But as soon as man tips the scales in one direction, or - possibly worse - introduces a non-native species, the effects can be disastrous on the wildlife community. Ceaseless persecution of raptors by gamekeepers was for many years a problem on large estates but thankfully the law stepped in to protect our iconic birds of prey. No doubt the rules are sometimes broken but having the legislation in place is the most important step. There's little that can be done about vanished animals such as the wolf. Well, you could attempt to re-introduce them but that immediately throws up fierce opposition by farmers and other landowners seeking to protect their own interests (one thing humans are spectacularly good at). Meanwhile the huge deer population happily munches away at young (artificially planted) trees because there is no natural predator to hound them. Every once in a while, men with guns will cull the herd and new plantations will be seeded in regimented lines. Why not chuck a few thousand American mink into the equation while we're at it? They'll be insignificant compared to the armies of imported grey squirrels marauding through our forests. No wonder the wildcat has retreated to the extreme far north, unable to make sense of it all. Yet experiments in the enormous National Parks on the American continent have shown that restoring the natural balance prompts an adjustment in the ecosystem towards the way things were before we meddled. I suppose you could point the finger at Cluny House and ask why they have allowed alien vegetation to grow. But it is a small enclosed patch in the grand scheme of things and - besides - not every non-native lifeform is a threat. A properly managed boutique garden is a world away from allowing intrusive plants such as Japanese knotweed to spread like wildfire until they are beyond control.

There was a marked path to follow around the garden and it involved steep climbs in places. Information sheets helped us to identify the more exotic plants and we certainly gained some new horticultural knowledge. A lovely place to visit if you're in the area and I'm more than happy to spend a few pounds to help maintain a project like this. We then headed for Aberfeldy to visit one of our favourite independent bookstores and have a wander around the town. We found a fortunate parking spot on the High Street just outside a butcher offering a wide selection of home-made pies. Needless to say I was dragged inside kicking and screaming. Suitably filled, it was just a short walk around the corner to the Watermill bookshop and café. We had been here once before and I'd always vowed to return after the pandemic eased. Just the sort of business that we don't want to lose. As we entered, a Korean TV crew were busy filming the shop interior. Obviously word had got around of our impending arrival! More seriously, it's fantastic that the Watermill attracts interest from far and wide. Every single bit of exposure helps. There is an excellent range of literature across the two large rooms, covering fiction and factual spheres. I purchased a history of a Perthshire glen near Killin that looked at the changes in Scottish society over the centuries through the eyes of the residents. I enjoyed the book and passed it on to my mum - which is one advantage a paper copy has over an electronic version tied to your own device. I also sourced a stack of local postcards for future post-crossing activities. We then headed downstairs for cake and coffee in the relaxing surroundings of the café. We just missed out on the last outdoor table but I was happy enough on the comfortable chairs in the corner of the room. It's easy to wax lyrical about the experience of visiting a traditional bookseller but, remember, these places shall only continue to exist if people patronise them. Make a point of visiting, go inside if you're passing by chance. Above all, buy something. That £8.99 paperback probably won't put a dent in your finances. The price of two or three drinks to you is the lifeblood of a local business. All it takes is for a modestly-sized group of people to share the same mindset and you have a thriving community service. Sit down afterwards and inspect your purchases over a beverage. It all helps and you most certainly know it makes sense. Lecture over!

Aberfeldy has a lot to offer the visitor. It would definitely make a nice destination for a short break and I would love to visit the community cinema one day. The Scottish Crannog Centre is just a few miles along the road on the shores of Loch Tay. This is a place we've been to several times over the years and I will forever treasure the memory of actually making fire from two pieces of wood. Sadly a serious blaze destroyed the reconstruction of the crannog (an Iron-age thatched wooden dwelling built upon water) but - thankfully - fundraising activities are well underway and hopefully a new facility will rise literally from the ashes. On a previous trip to Aberfeldy we drove out to see the Fortingall Yew - one of the oldest trees in Britain. Reckoned to be around 2000 years old, it stands in the centre of the tiny village and there is a real-ale pub just a short walk away. Let's hope it survived Covid (the boozer I mean. It would take more than a pesky virus to damage the arboreal legend). There is also the historic General Wade's Bridge over the Tay bringing you into Aberfeldy - built in the aftermath of the 1715 Jacobite uprising and part of a scheme to stymie any future Highland rebellions. Ironically the new network of roads paved the way (again, literally) for Bonnie Prince Charlie to gather support around the country when he launched his own campaign further down the line. We had intended to drive up an down a glen on the way home but the rain clouds were darkening the sky and we high-tailed it back to Fife, stopping at the bottom of Perthshire to catch sight of an osprey flying across Castlehill Reservoir near Muckhart.