Pitlochry

Spending Saturday night in Pitlochry, which is supposedly the Gateway to the Highlands. The guide book says you should give it a wide berth because it is full of tacky shops, although it appears on first glance to be full of ginger drunks.



I have booked a night in a crappy hotel with a double room whose bed is barely bigger than a single, no internet, no TV and a table and chair which are both sloping down at an angle of 30 degress. They do have a sister hotel round the corner, which seems to have all these things (except the slope), but sadly it's fully booked. Looks nice from the outside though.



This excellent Turkish restuarant seems to redeem the whole town though. I think Scotland might be a bit unwelcoming, because they describe themselves as "Mediterranean" which reminds me more of Spain, Italy or Greece and not Turkey. They seemed genuinely surprised and impressed that I chose to drink Efes there instead of Tennants, Budweiser or Becks, which probably never normally happens.



The town isn't Gaelic at all but the railway station (at the back of my hotel room) seems to be bilingual. Trains aren't going to stop me from sleeping, because there doesn't appear to be any.



Like most of Scotland so far, Vodafone don't seem to have put up any phone masts here either, which is unfortunate.