April 14th. I woke up, had breakfast, washed me, washed up and got to the train station in time for the 8:42 to Montrose. A cloudy start to the day, but forecast was for excellent weather. Following my instructions from www.planajourney.co.uk I asked the way to town so I could catch the #30 bus. But! Look! There was the #30 at the train station! Do you go to Brechin? I ask. Aye, Breekin. Close enough. I got on and chatted with a sweet lady with dandielion blow hair. After being assured that the 21A to Aberlemno would stop at the Brechin bus stop, I got off. I had a 40 minute wait for the bus and the stop is located in front of an antique shop. (Great placement!) In I go and 35 minutes later and GBP 16 lighter I leave. Terrific couple, I heard all about the merchant navy, children living in all parts of the world and many other interesting things. I bought: 1 silver ring, 2 souvenier spoons from NZ (for Tammy) and a scale. The kind you hang up and it has a hook and you hang things from it. Made in NY in the 1800s. Then off to Aberlemno on the bus, the 21A.
Aberlemno stop is opposite the bus shelter. The 'town' seems to be 4 houses, lots of plowed fields, many standing stones (my objective) and friendly people. I talked for a while with a couple who are restoring a coaching station from 1650. We commiserated about the standards set by landmarking committees. I took a picture of the little man who guards the corner of their roof.
Off down the road to the first stone. Hmm. Interesting, but small. Then the next stone. Big, carved on the front with a cross and a hunting scene on the back. Picture worthy. Then first left and on to the church with 'the' stone cross. Subject of the journey. It sits in the graveyard but looks alien. Since it was created in the 7th century and the oldest stones I saw were from the 17th century, it isn't hard to figure out why. It is really beautiful and I took lots of pictures. I only hope with skillful editing they turn out well.
Of course I also took pictures of gravestones and my socks with a flower. A couple came along and we chatted for a long while. They have a house over the hill (east, I guess) and are hoping to move up permanently. I can see why. The area is soft rolling hills, some trees, but mostly farms. The day was perfect - a bit misty, but sunny and warm. We went into the little church which was very plain, no adornments except the parish list of births on the wall. There was a gallery upstairs. This is Church of Scotland - Presbyterian? No stained glass, certainly no smells and bells.
When I finally left, I realized I still had 45 minutes until the bus came, so I sat on the bench in the sun and took notes. Then I walked down to the bus shelter, then I walked back to the second standing stone (stele) and sat on the grass enjoying the peace around me.
Oops, time to go back to wait for the bus. Oh oh! The bus, the 21A!! A few minutes early, but maybe he didn't have many pickups.
Now I must explain that this trip was planned as follows: Train to Montrose, Bus to Brechin, Bus to Aberlemno. Return: Bus to Forfar, Bus to Dundee, Train to Glasgow.
I get on and ask, is this the bus to Forfar? No. This is the bus to Brechin. Oh. Do you know when the bus for Forfar arrives? No, this is my first day on the route.
Okay, what the heck, I get on. We get to Brechin, 5 minute wait for the bus to Montrose, I get off at the train station. So? 25 minute wait until the bus to Glasgow. I nip into the supermarket, pick up stuff for dinner (save myself some time) and get on the train to Glasgow at 3:17.
Home by 5:30, just in time to watch Manchester United win their semi-final match for the FA cup, and to watch Doctor Who.
A glorious day.
Sunday, today, I woke up at 9:30 had a drink of water, then next I knew it was 2:30!
Made coffee and breakfast, checked my email, called Dorothy for a long chat and watched Chelsa win their semi-final match in overtime.
Just to prove I'm not a complete slug, I am doing a load of laundry. . .
Tomorrow, one more day left on my train pass - perhaps Arran for the day.
Stay tuned.
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