The first thing that struck me when I first entered the hotel after six months, was the overwhelming smell of dirty frying oil! So the first thing I did the next day after breakfast, was to see if there were any cans of oil, but there were none, and I went looking for Tony, as I was not doing any chips or anything else in that smelly fryers. he was quite taken aback, told me that the I am mistaken in my believe that the fryers should be cleaned, and the oil changed at least once a week if it wasn't busy, and twice during the summer. He told me to just do as they were doing so far!
So I told him that I was not going to chance people's health, and if that is how he wanted me to run the kitchen, I was leaving as in immediately! I had another job offer, and thinking back now, I know that I was silly not to take it, as it was a clean, well run hotel that offered me the job! But I am the world's biggest fool, and as loyalty is about first on my list after keeping promises, I come second a lot of times. Tony was shocked, looked at me with bewildered eyes, his small, thin body seeming to crumple in front of me, and my bally soft heart crumbled, and I said okay, I won't leave, but I wanted clean oil, pronto!
The poor wee man, who was thin when they first arrived, was now like a pencil stripe, as between him and Theresa they had done everything during the winter. There was almost no tourists during winter, and the kitchen was closed during the week, but in order to keep the inn running, the bar had to be kept open till the early hours of the morning. And over week-ends the two of them had shared the kitchen duties.
I had one humongous shock when, after brakfast, I took my own breakfast into the library where I used to always have it. But there was no library anymore, the beautiful leather couches had been removed, and a lot of small tables had replaced them, with the ugliest chairs around this tables, and cheap paper tablecloths, somewhat worse for wear covering said tables.
But what really threw me was the fact that all the books were gone, the walls empty of the wall racks housing them. And to top it all, the beautiful brown paint that gave so much atmosphere were now painted a stark white. I reeled with shock, as the library was used by quite a lot of the villagers, and guests, as they could sit there with a coffee or tea, and read for as long as they wanted! Now it was a very badly decorated, cold and miserable room.
I stormed out, so upset that I forgot that it was Tony's hotel now, to ask him why the heck they had made such a bally mess of the place, but had a further shock on seeing the bar! What used to be the most cosy, happy place, was now also a cold, unfriendly space, the walls also painted white, and all the beautiful prints off the walls! In place of the prints were now a few badly and cheaply framed notices, and my shocked nerves just overrun my senses, and I really went beserk when I found Tony. He and Theresa was busy doing the rooms, and from the conversation I learned that Theresa was actually the one behind all the changes, as she had convinced Tony that the library was a waste, and they could seat such a lot more people when it got busy! I kind of yelled at them, telling them that they had made the once tastefully decorated hotel into a cheap and ugly space! I was actually crying on and off all the rest of the day, until I went up to my room for a rest, where I stuck my head in the pillow, and screamed away my disgust!But, as I reminded myself, it was not my hotel, and if I wanted to enjoy my lovely Scotland, I just had to close my eyes against this atrocities, and do my work!
The thought of my next outing, this time to Loch Etive, lifted my shattered spirits a wee bit, and I was quite calm when I went down to do dinner!

I just had to say a last goodbye to my cove at Loch Voile, and made a quick sketch, as I wanted to do a painting on getting home.
The flight home was as usual, tedious, with a long wait of nine hours at Dubai. If you have a wait of ten hours and more, you are conveyed to a hotel for the night, but my luck was not that good.
Home was again quite daunting, as Haarlem had a lot of  creepy crawlies, and other eight legged horrors, almost as big as my hand sometimes, that moved in the moment I moved out! So on opening the door, it was no surprise to find umpteen of this spiders, luckily harmless, watching me with a jaundiced eye or two, from between their satiny but sticky webs, hanging from the rafters! A wee bitty creepy, but that was just the way it was, and I just put my luggage down before starting to clean my bedroom. I can live with a lot of strange and weird things, but a huge rainspider watching me lying in my bed, always looking ready to jump on me, was just not very comfy, so to have some sleep after the sleepless night on the plain, it had to be done.
The summer went quite quickly, and I was strong and healthy after a few months, and when Tony mailed me to ask whether I wanted to come back, I was all too ready to say yes. Well, I thought that as he had gotten the other chef when I got ill, I would not have the running of the kitchen on my shoulders, and also I would only do dinner when he was off.
So, with my childrens's moans and groans about my health and other things still fresh in my ears, I again boarded the Emmirates plane. Luckily I had only about an hour to wait before boarding the plane to Glasgow, From where I would find my own way to the hotel. To me it was a waste for Tony, and my previous employers to fetch me, as it took a big chunk out of their time, and they already so pressed for time.
I had a shocking surprise waiting for me at the hotel. Jo, Tony's wife, had run off with the chef, and the poor man was in quite a state of shock, and rage. So shattered was my hope of having a nice, easy season, as I was in charge of the kitchen yet again.
But I also found that Tony had employed a very unsavoury woman, whom nobody would employ, and this woman was all cheeky self importance, trying to teach me how to run the kitchen. I was a bitty shaken, as that kitchen was in a state of filth, and I had to start the next morning early to try and clean up a bit, before I would even try to attempt some baking and cooking!
I could just watch my little Panda from the window, raring to put back the battery, and take to the wee winding roads that I so loved!

The next day I took the road to glen Lyon, where I wanted to spend the day just walking Ben Lawers, the big mountain flanking the river in which I had my own personal pool, named, Christina's pool! It is one of the most beautiful spots I have had the honor to visit, and it felt really like it was just mine. Of course, as you had to scramble down the boggy mountainside to get to the river, nobody ever came there, and it remained a wild and serene spot, where sometimes you catch a glance of a Roe deer grazing on the slopes of the mountain, and sometimes a sheep would bring you back from a deep reverie, or a lovely sleep on the soft grass, with the sun baking down on you! Oh I just loved this place.
Here I had also built a cairn for my sister Lida, when she suddenly died. I painted a little message on a stone that I put inside the cairn, telling her that if she maybe is an angel, and fly over this spot, she must rest awhile, and enjoy the beauty of this place I so loved!

While sitting there in the bright sunlight, I thought of the night that Lizzy gave into my pleas to come and camp with me for one night! As luck would have it, we were inundated with midges, and after eating our dinner, me with my pyjama top over my face, and Lizzy wrapped up in her towel, we had to make a bee-line for my small tent. It wasn't long before the bally midges found a way in, and the four of us, Lizzy, me, and the two dogs scratched so much, that the tent collapsed on us! Then we decided to go up the mountain to where the car was parked. As I said before, the terrain is BOGGY, and by the time we made it to the car, surrounded by millions of hungry midges, we were covered in mud from falling into the bog holes! But the midges could not get in, and it was awesome to see them swarming around the car. Lizzy smoked one after the other cigarette, and I thought about the flask of lovely hot coffee far down below on the river bank!
So I went down to get it! Terrifying! And wet, and muddy, but the mud confused the midges a bit, and I made it down and back, Lizzy shining the car lights for me to see, but as it shone across the valley, no great help!
Next morning Lizzie wanted cigarettes! Badly! And I wanted coffee! Badly! So we drove to the small cafe in the glen, thinking that we would be the only customers! NOT!! As Lizzie had on a pair of shiny kind of Chinese pyjamas, covered in dried mud, it fell on me to get out. Self did NOT look good either, with a pair of pink shorts, and my mud smeared pyjama top! The guy thought we had an accident, and I had to explain viciously that no, the midges got us!!! The people having coffee outside stared in awe as I again appeared, with a packet of ciggies, and a flask with hot water!!
Lovely memories, and after I had my last barbeque of the season, I was ver, very sad o0n driving back, not knowing whether I would be back the next year! I had two days to go before leaving, and decided to take the Trossachs trail the next day!

I had a few days to go before my flight back home, and as Tommy was doing all the cooking and baking, I had promised Tony to do dinner, as they just could not cope. It was now October, and still busy, as the weather was really good.
So during the days I went to all my favourite places to say goodbye, as although I promised Tony to come back, I was not feeling all that strong, and if my health didn't improve over the next six months, I knew that I could not do the work properly!
The first , and my most favourite place I went to of course was Loch Voile, where I had spent so many happy hours reading, barbequeing, or just basking in the sun, like a very lazy seal! I found this small cove purely by accident when, as I do, I crawled down a steep slope to have a look at the loch from that angle. I was delighted when I came upon this little cove, and promptly christianed it Christina's cove! As it is so well camouflaged, nobody but me ever went there, but once I found two Porteguese tourists having a skinny dip in the icy water! They were two young men, out on a hiking holiday of a lifetime I suppose, and on finding this secluded spot, decided to have a dip! They were not even disturbed at me coming upon them, just did a few more splashes, dried themselves with their t-shirts, dressed, and after waving me a friendly goodbye, went up the slope!
From there I drove to Comrie, a village that was known for it's beautiful hanging baskets, with the most beautiful flowers cascading down like colourful waterfalls during the summer, and it also had a wonderful charity shop, where you pay fifty pence for tops and one pound for trousers. I have once found a pair of brand new Prado pants there, and payed only one pound! They always had something for me, even when I only bought a few books, and that was only one pound for three.
I then took a little back road that led me to the small house looking a lot like mine in South Africa, where I parked, and walked up the hill to have a look at my wild strawberry patch. That I also found by walking up a slope, and every year in June I came here to pick the berries. I brought Lizzy once, and after she gave me a fright by rolling down the steep slope, and got winded a bit! But she recovered and found her breath again, and we drove back to Comrie, where we bought ice cream, then on to loch Voile, where we had strawberries and ice cream! We had to sit in the car however, as it suddenly started raining, but nevertheless, it tasted wonderful! Then I said a quick farewell to the Blue lagoon, a beautifull pond just outside Comrie before heading back to to dinner.

Of course, if people who have read my blog before know, when Lizzy is on holiday, it means late nights in a pub somewhere, and sleeping till eleven in the morning. I have long since learned not to try and desturb my friend, as she became one ball of venom if roused before she was ready to get upright! Once she had her first coffee, slumped over a table, and a cigarette, then a second cup, and a cigarette, she would get up and slowly proceed to the bathroom, where she would stay, apparently having a bath, for about half an hour. Then another coffee and a ciggy, after which she would go and dress, and one dirty look from a very iiritated me, and she would fire up and usually shout 'DO NOT HARASS ME!!!' So I have learned to get up, as I was an early riser, pack myself a breakfast and a flask with coffee, and take to the roads, or the hills, or the beach, coming back at one, when I knew she would be up and ready to go anywhere I wanted to see.
On Seil there wasn't much in the line of places to walk to, as it is a very small island, so I took my sketch book and pencil, and di a few drawings, which I would later use as references for some paintings.
All too soon we had to go back, as I had to get my flight home.
At the hotel things did not look too good, but Tony had managed to get Tommy, a local man who used to be a cook in the army to do the kitchen, but I don't think they were ready to be on their own yet. Tony was not quite at ease in the bar, and as Jo was still going up to their apartment at between five and six every day, poor Tony was put under a lot of stress! I helped a bit before it was time for me to go, and I promised to come back the next year to help out.

I walked for miles along the rocky shores of this wild coastline, and did a lot of drawing. The little village of Ellenabach was also nice, but I had my eye on going over to the small island that I could see only a small distance away. But Lizzie was not so very enthusiastic, as the sea was quite rough, and the ferry taking people over to Easedale, is only a wee motorboat, carrying only a few passengers at a time.
But I managed to get Liz so far as to first have a closer look at the 'ferry' before she would decide, and I thanked the skipper for being so persuavesive, as in no time we were seated, our bums a wee bitty wet, and wedged inbetween all kinds of bags and boxes filled with the other passengers's shopping, but nevertheless. The first part of the crossing was fine, as it was quite a calm stretch of water before opening into the ocean.
There are no cars on Easedale, and only a few houses, so the people have to get their shopping to and from the ferry, in guess what? A wheelbarrow! Every household have their own marked wheelbarrow, and from the ferry this is then pushed to their homes. It looked like quite a job, as it was a bitty uphill towards the village centre. The museum on the island was one of the most interesting museums I have so far encountered on a small island, and full of things and stories about the life on Easedale, going back a long time.
I have noticed on my walks that the shoreline is flanked by huge slate kind of heaps, and in this museum the whole story of slate harvesting and cutting is told. What a terribly hard life this islanders had, eking out a living by cutting the slate. The pictures showing this men and young boys sitting bent over, their hands calloused and their faces showing misery, almost had me in tears.
We spent a long time in the museum, as it was quite extensive, with lots and lots of very interesting stories and objects.
Then it was time to go back! As is the way of the weather in Scotland, the sea was chased up and churned into a frenzy by the winds, and poor old Lizzie was in a state of panic when she saw the choppy water we had to cross. Must say, I was also quite panicky, but knew that if I showed it, we would sleep on the grass next to the jetty, as that would cause Liz to have a panic attack, something she gets regularly!
The skipper though looked unconcerned, but as we struggled to board, my heart did contract a bitty, and we were sopping wet in no time. We were the only passengers, save for an old man who was ensconced in a huge coat, with only his eyes showing. It is not a long trip but oh boy, as the little boat rode up the waves, just to fall back into a trough of grey water the next minute, I felt my lunch come up and go down umpteen times, but poor Lizzie quite lost hers in the churning sea!
We looked like drenched chickens when the cheery skipper gave us a hand back onto the safe soil of Seil. He then wished us a very good evening before he gave his attention to the passengers waiting to embark. Phew, I wasn't only wet from the sea water, but could feel the cold sweat running down my spine!

Of course we were scarcely twenty miles from Strathyre when we made our first pit stop. The dogs had to have a pee, and as poor old Benny was heaving and retching, I thought it high time. I have been upset in the past because Liz would not let he dogs stay at home, as Annette, a friend of hers, had so far offered to look after them every time we went on holiday, but Liz was adamant that her dogs also needed a holiday!
Anyway, we had a coffee at the roadside, and after I took a few very deep breathes of the fresh air, we were ready to drive on, but not until a little bit of drama! I don't know why Benny had such bad breath, and Liz had just about tried anything, from different tooth pastes, to all kinds of minty chews, all to no avail! But this I know, to drive for hours with that little dog standing with his paws on the back of your seat, retching like mad, and blowing gusts of the most hideous fumes in the back of your neck, was not for the faint hearted.
But more about the drama! Benny perked up very quickly after he had a run, and when another car stopped and a huge spiky hunting dog jumped out, he gave a snarl and a growl, and went for the kill. Poor old Liz gave one shrill scream, and with her slightly knock knees doing an awesome sprint, she reached the dogs just as the bigger dog tried to swallow Benny! This little Yorky, meaning Benny of course, had the heart of a lion, and the bally fighting instinct of a raging bull! It took some doing to separate the dogs, as Stouty, the other Yorky, decided to join the fun.
Seil island is very small, and you drive over the ocean to get to it. The bridge spanning this part of the ocean is about thirty meters long, and at first I did not believe that we had actually crossed the sea, but after consulting the touring guide book, I was assured that it was indeed the case.
We got to the cottage just after midday, and after unpacking our stuff, and scouting around the cottage, I made a light lunch, and as it was such a marvellous day, we sat outside for our meal. After the meal we walked down the tree lined road down to the village, where we had a coffee at the small cafe, but as there was not much going on, we decided to walk along the beach before going back.
There was a huge Bramble lane running along the road and next to our cottage, and the ripe, dark purple berries were inviting all and everyone to come and pick. So we did! I made a beautiful crumble with it the first night, and the next day a lovely cheese cake. We were having bramble pie, and ice cream and creamcake, and cheesecake to our heart's content, until somebody told us that the next week-end people from all over will be invading the island to pick the brambles! We then went a bitty slower in our harvesting, but as there was so many, we still enjoyed some dish with brambles every night!

I was allowed to leave the hospital two days later, and not a minute to soon, I must say, as the old women drove me nuts! However I had to go to a carer until I was pronounced fit enough to go back to the hotel. Also I was told that I could not go back to work too soon, so I told Tony that It would be best if they looked for another chef that could work until the end of the season, which they did.
The carer I was sent to was an absolute angel, and pampered me like a baby. I just did not feel hungry, and she was forever making nice things for me, and tried to get me to eat.
But slowly my apetite started to come back, and I could at first eat a bowl of oats in the mornings, but nothing else. I laughed one morning, as the oats porridge had way to much salt in, and I just could not eat it. Now this woman was an angel, but I soon found out that she, like all of us had her peculiarities, like the thing with the porridge. She tried to feed me, and as a rule I would have eaten and kept the fact that it was too salt to myself, but being still not really ravenously hungry, I told her that there was a bitty too much salt in the porridge!
As she had not yet had a taste herself, she now poured herself some milk in the bowl, and quite a few spoons of sugar, and started eating with great gusto. I could see that she did not really enjoy her food, but would never admit to it being too salty, and knew that I was getting better when I felt a gurgle of laughter escaping from my throat when she pushed back the empty bowl, and pronounced gaily: 'Now that was a lively bowl of porridge!'
But she was in all aspects just a super carer. I had to take some medicine at six in the morning, but this made me feel sick, so she made a beautiful, crustless little sandwich every night and put it on my bed table so I could have it before the medicine, as she usually slept till seven after I started feeling better.
I knew that I could not work again that year, so I changed my plane ticket to an earlier date, but first Lizzie and self were going on holiday as usual, if I was up to it.
We had decided to go to Seil island that year, as it was not so far for me, and if I felt ill again, we could easily come back.
As is always the case, to get on the road, car all loaded, and the two of us seated, with the dogs in the back, and me trying to hold my head so that the fumes from Benny's killer breathe did not half kill me, took some doing, but one sunny morning in September, we were off! That is of course after we struggled to get the raw ginger into poor Benny, as he got terribly car sick, and the ginger did help a bit!

Thursday morning I woke up feeling a bit under the weather, and as the day wore on, I was feeling worse and worse. Friday morning I could hardly get up to do breakfast, and by lunchtime I was feeling like death warmed up, and told Tony that I just felt too sick to go on. He was aghast, as we had quite a few bookings for dinner, so I went to the Boys and begged them to stay on a few days longer, as I was not capable of doing any more work. They had a fright when they saw me, and knew that for the time I worked for them I was never sick, or expected nights off over week-ends, and although they were ready to leave the following day, they consented to stay on until I was able to work.
I thought it was just a heavy flue, but I was unable to eat, and could only drink a few drops of water. My body was aching badly, and Hannah decided to get the doctor, who gave me anti-biotics, as I had a very high fever.
Even Jo was worried, and brought me some soup, which I could not eat, and then some jelly, and toast, and Hanna brought me goodies, but I just could not eat anything. I was praying to die, I was feeling so bad, and Hannah then decided to get the doctor out again. He gave me one look and phoned for the ambulance.
The hospital was good for the first few days, as I was feeling too bad to even notice anybody, I think the medicine they gave me kept me a bit hazy.
A lot of tests were done, and it was found that I had a bad kidney infection, so I was once again put on a different medicine. Then I felt bad, as I became naucious, and my head ached like the blazes, but the doctor promised me that I would soon feel better. I did not! Then there was a great commotion, and the doctor came again, and said that I was allergic to the medicine they had given me, and I had to be put on yet another medication.
But I still could not eat. Slowly I started feeling better, and that is when I started noticing things. I was in a ward with one youngish woman, and four old ladies.
I woke up as the nurse came to check my vitals, and could not sleep again, and all because of the old ladies. At twelve sharp, the one across from me suddenly sat up, and started to put on her slippers and dressing gown. then she took her kierie (walking stick), and slowly proceeded to the toilet, just next to me. Her progress sounded like this: swish, swish, plonk, swish swish, plonk, her feet making the swish sound, and her kierie the plonk. Then she opened the toilet door, and this went: gnaaaaau-eeeeh, as it opened, then doing almost the same as it closed. I waited for her to come back, as I did not want to fall asleep, just to be wakened up. At last the door gave its screech, and I sighed thankfully, but as if on a given sign, another old lady popped straight up., and started to put on her slippers and dressing gown. Her feet made a swishing sound, but luckily she had no kierie, so I waited for the door to screech the second time, hoping to doze off then. But I was shocked when, as the door gave its opening screech, another of the old ladies popped up, and knowing that most likely the fourth on would do the same, I resigned myself to a sleepless night.
In the morning I had a high fever again, and everybody was flabbergasted about it, me having been so much better the previous day, but I bally well knew why, and when the same thing happened again that night, I decided to ask the doctor to go home when he came the next day.

The time for the boys's leaving for their new life in Germany was coming on to fast, and my spirits sank lower and lower as the days passed.There was no time for lamenting however, as I had become like an old misfiring robot, doing my many chores as if in a trance.
I asked around the village to see if I could find someone to come and help out in the kitchen, but as it was so late in the season, not even the sorriest of bodies was available, and I went into a kind of tired depression, I think, gorging on puds and ice cream, and all things sweet! I was so tired that my poor body must have been begging for energy, from there my sudden sweet tooth!
Jo, who was still struuting around like a haughty cockerel, was still trying to show me in a hundred and ten ways just who was the queen of that dump, doing precious little to lighten our loads.
Then Jo announced that in future she would cook for the staff while I had my rest between three and five, and my heart sank to the soles of my feet. I had no time at five to sit down to dinner, as I had to get everything ready before six, as that was when people stated arriving for dinner.She informed me in her drawling voice that I had to be at the dinner table at four thirty then, and she would stoop to serve dinner to suit me! This with a bit of sarcasm! But I knew that I just could not eat at four thirty in the afternoon, as I was just not hungry then.
But of course she had to go upstairs at five thirty for her appointment with the Gin bottle. I put up quite a resistence, but she was adamant that she would feed us before she went upstairs, and as I did not feel in the mood for any trouble, I agreed, knowing that I could and probably would, make me a meal later if I got hungry again.
I used to do all the meals for the staff, and fed them after the rush is over at about ten, but with only the few of us, I made them a meal when they asked for it after our guests were fed.
So to keep the peace I went down at four thirty, and found the boys already seated, and also Harry, the owners's son.
Jo's shrill voice suddenly rang through the diningroom, calling for Harry to come and help her serve dinner. We sat waiting, wondering what she would serve us.
Then Harry came in, followed by his mother, and I could hear the Boys gasp, as they had the first glimpse of what was on the plates! Then Harry plonked down a plate before me, and I truly had to blink a few times to make sure that I was not dreaming!
On the plate were two slices of toast, unbuttered, and on this reclined to whole, peeled Italian tomatoes, the ones that I used for cooking. A glimpse at the Boys showed me that they were also quite overwhelmed, and when I caught Brendan's eye, we stated to laugh, and then John chimed in, and we were soon paralyzed with mirth!
After a while Tony came in, gave the fare one look, and after looking at the three of us that was still giggling, he made for the door, and back to the bar! The tomatoes were not even warmed up, and none of us ate anything, and that enraged Jo so much that she flew up the stairs like some demented lunatic, to seek consolation in her Gin glass, I was sure! That was enough for me, so the next day I told her roundly that I would make my own dinner, and Tony and Harry also demanded to be fed by me. The Boys were quite capable of cooking their own meals, and did so. They were anyway leaving in a few days, as their pact with Tony to help him until he could cope, was now over.