We’ve been away: south-west Scotland. In February. I didn’t fancy the warmer options (as it involves a metal cylinder full of bastards), so my better half booked some places, and we hit the M6 to head north and do some B&B hopping.
First stop: Annan. We’d not been here before, and it’s a very noticeably Scottish town for one so close to the border: red sandstone, scottish baronial clock tower on the town hall,
and the odd other bit of Victorian excess, now faded. We stayed in one, and I walked past another one morning: a glorious money pit of a hotel:
The last time it was for sale, it had a guide price of £150K: I’d guess you’d need many times that to restore it, and I strongly doubt you’d make it back: Annan was a nice town, with some good pubs, but it’s not got masses of tourism or masses of cash.
Next call was Portpatrick: postcard-pretty harbour, and a nice hotel for a couple of nights. We popped to Stranraer, which is still a bit grotty, and on to Port William. That’s Port, not Fort. Beware the mistake, and automatic suggestions from websites: we nearly misbooked, and we’re not the first, according to a previous landlord of the Monreith Arms over 20 years ago. Our last stop was Ecclefechan, for no better reason than the hotel is lovely, and a bargain.
We’d last been to South West Scotland in 2009, but not come further west than Castle Douglas: it was well over 20 years since coming this far over, and it was surprising: not a lot had changed, to be honest, but Port William was prettier than we remembered, and Glenluce tattier…