I was very excited to visit Pitlochry, probably because I’d never heard of it until I discovered it (if you can say that) in Rick Steves’ guide book. It the only place I chose without hearing about it’s fame beforehand. It’s a cute little touristy town where you can hike to visit a couple of distilleries and there is a waterfall on the way. I was sold. I found a hostel that had very high reviews and I found out why. Coming out of the train station I walked down the road and up the hill to the main street and there it was!
The lobby was cute, the dorms were adorable (with floral bed sheets and named bunks) and they gave me a bottom bunk in what I later learned was the only ensuite dorm room.
It was too early for me to check in, though, so I dropped off my bags, set my kindle to the Rick Steves walk and headed to the distillery. This town had cuteness all over the place
See the little lady with the wheelbarrow?
And this guy?
I came across a sign that I thought said “Welcome to Pitlochry in Blood” in fancy type. I was confused. Later I found another sign and saw that it said Bloom- not Blood.
Once I got to the forrest I was serenaded by chirping birds and a rustling stream. I only saw 2 other people and a dog.
Rick had recommended that I stop into the TI to get a park map, but I couldn’t find it easily and preferred to find my way on my own rather than ask for help. And I found the waterfall!
There I am!
I followed the path to this meadow (following the signs pointing to the distillery). Let’s take a minute here. I was in Scotland, climbing hills in a lovely forrest, coming to a waterfall and following signs in the forrest that pointed toward the distillery. I just… ahhhhhhhh
The path narrowed
And then I came to the smallest distillery in Scotland.
On the tour they got right down to business and we did the tastings first. We got to keep a little glass as a souvenir. 
They have whiskey aging here from recently barreled spirit to 52 year old vintage. 
And then, like clockwork, my phone died. I got out my map and found a long lonely road that led an un-pedestrian-friendly way to a restaurant across from a brewery that was more reasonably priced than the places on Main Street that had been recommended by the guy at my hostel. I wish I could have shown you the view from the top of the mountain looking down at the fields and the ‘castle’ and town and out across to the other mountains. It was spectacular. After about 2 1/2 miles I found the restaurant and after a slight misunderstanding regarding a flight vs bottles to take away, I sipped on the lame local brews and enjoyed the weird Scottish pasta I had ordered (with mushrooms, a red pepper salsa and cream sauce). After trying several different kinds of Scottish ale and not really liking any of them, I vowed to stick to whiskey for the rest of my time in Scotland.
Back at the hostel, I met my roommate from Seattle and chatted away for over an hour. She’d been traveling for about 2 months in Ireland and Scotland, so I picked her brain for recommendations and we shared our stories. Finally we thought to exchange names and I learned that her name was Megan– that was one I could remember! I closed the door to the whole bathroom (It’s more fun to take showers in a bathroom rather than a shower stall), took note to never take bathmats for granted again, and took the best hostel shower of my trip.
I went down to the lobby for internet access and checked to see what was playing at the local theatre. It was 15 minutes to 7. The show started at 8. I had been running around for the last several days and was tempted to stay in and relax, but then I opted again to take advantage of my opportunities. I secured the last front row ticket (the second cheapest option) to see “People.” The plot sounded an awful lot like the plot of Checkhov’s Cherry Orchard (which I had just seen on Broadway a few months ago) except it took place in Britain and included the filming of a porn. Sounds good to me! I took the pedestrian path to the bridge across the water and found this guy who looked like he was fishing, but he was talking on his cell phone.
Bouncing on the suspension bridge. 
Somehow, I had thought the play would be done with thick Scottish accents, but, alas, it was done in uppity British (no offense to Brits, but I’ve heard that accent all over the telly). A lot of the British humor went over my head in the first act, but then in the second it got poignant. The play was about this woman who lives in an old Manor and couldn’t afford to keep it up. She spent most of the play trying to figure out who to give it to so she could still live in it in peace (the filming of the porn in the house was so much fun for her, but it didn’t end up helping her financial situation) and ended up giving the house to the National Trust. At the end they had tourists walking through the house as the drama of its history was emphasized. It made me think about the stories I heard as I traipsed through castles and houses that used to be lived in as a tourist myself. I liked it and I’m really glad I decided to go.
It was still light out as I walked back through the adorable streets at 10:30 at night.
