Life in the slow lane brings plenty to chew over

An adventure in rural Perthshire with an old friend reminds Fiona of the joys of taking things easy

We took a run up the back road between Blairgowrie and Dunkeld this week. It is muddy, but for some reason there are few potholes on this country stretch. People with influence must live here. The streets round us are terrible.

As we drive north the rain goes away and the sun peeps out from behind the clouds. Tough little snowdrops bob in the wind and hardy daffs will not be far behind.

Having time on your hands is a rare treat. Not having to rush madly somewhere for work is grounding. Being an afternoon tourist means you can take time to appreciate views.

We note rooks digging for worms in newly-ploughed fields.

We admire the variously coloured cows, tails swishing as they look hopefully for grass. We pass several glassy waters.

The name suggests otherwise, but there is nothing lowly about the Loch ‘o the Lowes. This haven sits amid forest and hills and is a treasure trove of wildlife. Further on, Butterstone trips off the tongue and glows like a jewel. Cluny, meanwhile, is another gem and can be translated as a “loch of the meadow”.

The MacNaughties would have loved this particular outing. Especially if we had been able to stop and chase a pheasant or two. And before you report me, they are not encouraged to bother birds.

The cocker spaniel would have adored the lochs though. Barra would be the first in to the water. He loves a swim, especially it there is a stick involved. This, of course, is the opposite of his brother, the Norfolk terrier, who will do anything to avoid a bath.

This time, my travelling companion is my friend Mary.

Mary has reached a certain time of life. She is ageless and timeless – and she is very good company.

We drink in the views – and still thirsty decide to call in at a local hotel.

It sits on the river and it promises great things. It will have to live up to its name.

Mary worked for many years in the hospitality industry and she knows what is good or bad. This time, alas, it is just indifferent.

I have to go twice to find someone to serve us. Then the coffee is downed by the time the scones arrived. And £9 for scones does seem rather steep.

Having time on your hands is a rare treat. Not having to rush madly somewhere for work is grounding

It is no matter. We have a good old natter in convivial surroundings. Two girls with a generation between us and a world to put to rights.

We take the remaining scone with us, neatly wrapped in a paper napkin. At that price who wouldn’t? Then we drive slowly back on the low road to Blair.

I don’t know who it was who said ‘’if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it” but life in the slow lane is really quite a tonic.

I must tell the MacNaughties this the next time they are rampaging around the garden…