Cragowlet House is seriously stupendous. It’s one of those houses that is familiarly and brilliantly Scottish, making it the perfect base camp for a reunion of my good friends after having started our story in Edinburgh a few years back.
The Koa Tree Camp field lies somewhere near the Devon/Cornwall border. If it wasn’t clear- I’m a hardy Dorset girl. There’s a bit of semi-friendly, semi-aggressive beef between Devon/Dorset folk, so i’ll brush past the fact this place technically lay on the Devon side of the west country border lands. Instead I’ll focus on the fact that it is ruddy brilliant.
With the changing of the seasons comes a change in the sorts of adventures and encounters with the wild we might have. Days get impossibly short and the rains get determinedly prolific.
This is no excuse however not to dick about on a row boat at every opportunity that presents itself prior to the river turning to ice.
The rumours go that Scotland is home to a whole bunch of Gods.
Being the very homestead of the deities is one reason for the stonking badge it’s been given of ‘God’s Country.’ The other reason is one you will only make sense of once you have wound your way in to the highlands for yourself.
There’s a magic in those mountains- a magic that would bamboozle even Bilbo, Frodo and co.
(And their ain’t no higher praise than the hobbit seal of approval).
The great thing about winding up the river Frome from Poole Harbour and in to Wareham is that the end point is a pub.
That’s assuming your vessel won’t fit under the bridge. If you are traversing the water way by kayak then you can definitely keep right on going after a quick pint at The Old Granary all the way to, well, the river source I imagine.
That’s one great thing.