It has been a week but here's what happened. Grandad was through about 3pm for our long journey back across to the West, near the Skye Bridge. The bothy we were destined for was Suardalan. Here's Grandad in a brief photo op with Phoenix just before we set off.
The journey took a little longer than planned and with the nights fair drawing in, we decided to stop at a shally. The journey had taken it's toll and Charlie who had been sick and was crashed out in the back seat.
As soon as we arrived Charlie woke up and was as bright as a button (we probably could have chanced the night walk into the bothy) instead we went for a meal and a pint then had an early night.
The next morning we were up bright and early, Charlie finally did the toilet after a 18 hour strike, surprisingly managing not to pee the bed the night before.
Off we went and about an hour later we were there, we could see the bothy from the road. We pulled in, got our boots on and made our way over a wee hill before Charlie took her seat on my shoulders next it was threw some marsh squelch squelch, across the river splish splash, threw the herd off cows moo moo and across the plain to the bothy. It only took about 20 minutes, an ideal bothy for young children.
It was an empty bothy even bigger than Steioneag, 3 rooms at ground level and 2 rooms up the ladder. We unpacked and got set up before having some scran. Charlie was loving it, running about outside next to the cows.
Our plan to go across to Skye was scuppered by the night in the shally so instead we headed back down to the car and made our way into the village for a pint in the pub and a dram in the field.
The weather was fantastic all weekend. Charlie, top off scrambling over rocks up in the hills.
The cows seemed fascinated with our little halfling which suited Charlie who was loving their company.
Mooooo....
This was the room we nested in, clean and tidy with wood and a bag of coal sitting. Top Marks...
Nosey parker up the ladders checking out our digs.
Grandad getting the dinner on, notice how peaty the water is - it looks like pish.
Another adventurous climb at the pub, before the top came off.
This is from the drive up, the clouds were rolling across the mountains so gracefully, it looked amazing.
Charlie kitted out in her new pink welly boots sitting on the dry-stone dyke just outside the bothy.
Here we are down by our pishy peaty water supply, no drinking straight out off this stream. There were some cool little waterfalls and it was very rocky so you could scramble right up the stream but nothing to write home about.
Some of the peaks from the bothy.
And it was hometime after tidying up Grandad and Charlie make their way as I get in a few last photos.
Bye bye Suardalan.
This is next to where we parked the car, it is more of the ACF (ancient caledonian forest) although the picture turned out crap because of the long grass which hides the petrified stumps.
On the way there, Granda Martin took us to see the kids Christmas prezzi which is a massive trampoline. Meanwhile Charlie takes a drive herself with a jellybaby.
Big cousin Jessica is there to greet all of us. My wee cousin Martin is there as usual but I feared the camera would crack if I tried to picture him so he just gets a mention.
All the younglins on the dancefloor.
The trusty windowledge, I remember the days when it was my seat.
Great Gran and Granda full of pride and joy.
The journey took a little longer than planned and with the nights fair drawing in, we decided to stop at a shally. The journey had taken it's toll and Charlie who had been sick and was crashed out in the back seat.
As soon as we arrived Charlie woke up and was as bright as a button (we probably could have chanced the night walk into the bothy) instead we went for a meal and a pint then had an early night.
The next morning we were up bright and early, Charlie finally did the toilet after a 18 hour strike, surprisingly managing not to pee the bed the night before.
Off we went and about an hour later we were there, we could see the bothy from the road. We pulled in, got our boots on and made our way over a wee hill before Charlie took her seat on my shoulders next it was threw some marsh squelch squelch, across the river splish splash, threw the herd off cows moo moo and across the plain to the bothy. It only took about 20 minutes, an ideal bothy for young children.
It was an empty bothy even bigger than Steioneag, 3 rooms at ground level and 2 rooms up the ladder. We unpacked and got set up before having some scran. Charlie was loving it, running about outside next to the cows.
Our plan to go across to Skye was scuppered by the night in the shally so instead we headed back down to the car and made our way into the village for a pint in the pub and a dram in the field.
The weather was fantastic all weekend. Charlie, top off scrambling over rocks up in the hills.
The cows seemed fascinated with our little halfling which suited Charlie who was loving their company.
Mooooo....
This was the room we nested in, clean and tidy with wood and a bag of coal sitting. Top Marks...
Nosey parker up the ladders checking out our digs.
Grandad getting the dinner on, notice how peaty the water is - it looks like pish.
Another adventurous climb at the pub, before the top came off.
This is from the drive up, the clouds were rolling across the mountains so gracefully, it looked amazing.
Charlie kitted out in her new pink welly boots sitting on the dry-stone dyke just outside the bothy.
Here we are down by our pishy peaty water supply, no drinking straight out off this stream. There were some cool little waterfalls and it was very rocky so you could scramble right up the stream but nothing to write home about.
Some of the peaks from the bothy.
And it was hometime after tidying up Grandad and Charlie make their way as I get in a few last photos.
Bye bye Suardalan.
This is next to where we parked the car, it is more of the ACF (ancient caledonian forest) although the picture turned out crap because of the long grass which hides the petrified stumps.
This is the wall behind the toilet door, a groundbreaking masterpiece called 'the bearded man' done in orange crayon. This portrait seems to be an impression of Van Gogh's post-impressionist self-portrait. As for the name of this new genre, Charlie has suggested 'Scribblism' going against conventional thought that describes it as 'Vandalism'.
It is less clear what our young talent was going for here on the living-room floor. The dimensions of this drawing suggests a landscape, this backed up by the choice of green crayon and laminated wood backdrop which I think have to taken into concideration.
On the wall in the upstairs wall she appears to have gone for a cave painting style. My interpretation is primitive man gathering wood for fire. This is the genius of 'Scibblism', nothing is completed only suggested which allows the viewer to use their own imagination in comprehending the image.
Not content with just sharing her artistic prowess with her family, Charlie took to the street in an attempt to inspire the local population with her misunderstood art.
This time shifting medium to the stone and using local cars as her canvas Charlie style takes on a more surrealist edge to it. Here is the 'twisted face' in this Charlie displays her ambition that money is no object in the pursuit of her art.
'the Phallus' represents what we lose in entering a world of language - the fact the message will always be slipping away, that what we want will always be out of reach because of the fact that we speak. The symbol of this distortion is the phallus.
Here's just the warm up, a few scratches before she gets creative. There are some other car canvases that haven't been pictured. They have been bought up by the gallery of modern art to be displayed next Spring.
Her creative ingenuity includes breaking up bread and spreading sand to contrast against the rug in epic 3-D landscapes. Does her creativity know no bounds?
Needless to say that in her expression Charlie has encountered some controversy including one neighbour who demand we smack her. But Charlie has shown that she won't lie down and be bullied into curbing her creative energy for anyone and is ready and willing to come out fighting.
