The Lass O'Gowrie - Scotland

The Lass O'Gowrie - Scotland Outstanding hospitality, food and gift retail in the village of Errol. Extremely dog friendly. We love babies. We feed everyone regardless of allergies.
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| Day 18 | MontenegroWe are back overseas again and a country that we now see becoming increasingly popular as a holiday...
18/08/2026

| Day 18 |

Montenegro

We are back overseas again and a country that we now see becoming increasingly popular as a holiday destination. Following in the footsteps of Croatia, its neighbour to the north, Montenegro is appearing on the radar as an alternative option now that prices further north are increasing.

Separated from Serbia in 2006, Montenegro as an independent nation is a bit of an enigma for many in the western world. Translated as “black mountain” we often drove across from Kosovo through the western border at Peja, down to Podgorica and on to the coast. Driving through those mountains is not for the faint-hearted. Twisting, turning, potholed roads, combined with long, dark tunnels through the bare mountain rock. Add in some nerve-wracking overtaking manoeuvres on blind bends by the locals and far too many huge, overloaded trucks and you normally reached Podgorica with a huge sigh of relief.

Initially, Montenegro was a place that we drove through to get to Croatia, we stayed either in Dubrovnik or Cavtat and took family who were visiting to see the sights. But as Croatia became more popular with overseas tourists and they opened the huge cruise ship dock, we wanted to find somewhere slightly quieter. It made sense to shorten the journey and investigate what we had been driving past all these years. And we are glad we did.

The small inlet of Kotor was the first on our list. Previously, we jumped on the roll-on-roll-off mini car ferry that took about five minutes across the bay to carry on north, rather than taking the considerably longer route all round the inlet of Kotor Bay. But driving into Kotor town itself was a good decision. Like a miniature Dubrovnik, the old town is a beautiful example of historical Venetian buildings that are now a designated UNESCO Heritage Site. Shiny marble streets, beautifully lit up at night, the harbour outside the gates is usually full of gigantic superyachts owned by Russian Oligarchs or other wealthy holiday clients, which makes for stark contrast from the old town and swaying palm trees.

As you would expect being on the shore, one of the main options in local restaurants is fish and the menus operate on a daily catchweight depending on what is landed that day. It’s a relatively short ferry ride over to Italy from Montenegro as we discovered on our previous road trip, so you can certainly see the influence in the menu options that offer squid ink risottos and pasta dishes. Combined with Balkan-influenced wood fired ovens, you can also get a reliable range of baked dishes and fresh breads alongside salads and grilled meats.

We took a drive around the bay with our Danish friends, who had recently invested in a property nearby to head for lunch at a place that had been recommended. Ćatovića Mlini was a delightfully peaceful location, away from the coastline but situated beside a water inlet from the main bay. Stone buildings, shaded patio seating, running water and cute little bridges over the waterways. Better still, the main reason for us coming here was the local lobster with saffron risotto, which was a steal at about €25. Ice cold drinks and the chance to take a deep breath before driving back through those mountains to Pristina.

On another lunch trip, we were recommended to try a small place that apparently cooked the best “lamb under the bell” in the region. The “bell” is called a “peka” and is usually a terracotta dome, pretty similar to a tagine. It captures the moisture and flavour in the wood oven while cooking and the resulting tender meat is spectacular. We can’t even remember the name of the place, but it was essentially someone’s back garden. Sitting on plastic patio chairs, we were brought plates of lamb with potatoes and hot peppers on the side with salad leaves. Washed down with a Tuborg beer, we had to pause for a moment to process what we were eating. In the background was a rusting VW Transporter parked in the driveway but the view was surreal. You really had to grab life by the scruff of the neck sometimes, throw caution to the wind and trust that all would be well.

Further down the coast to the south of Kotor are the larger resorts of Sveti Stefan and Budvar. You may have heard of Budvar from when Madonna played a gig on Jaz Beach in 2008, which at the time was one of the biggest events in the region and heralded a revitalised reputation that independent Montenegro was safe, vibrant and home to a considerable, young population with a desire to be included. We opted to stay away from Budvar that weekend because of the numbers expected in the area, but many of the local staff that we worked with in the UN made the journey so we were all living off the buzz for many weeks afterwards.

At one point, in a bid to boost political alliance and tourism, Montenegro Airlines launched new flights between Pristina and Podgorica. This heralded a brief, but glorious time when we were able to hop on a twenty-minute flight for about €80 and bypassed the need to drive through those dreaded mountains. Usually, the flights, on small fifty seaters, were like a UN shuttle bus given that every other passenger was also an international escaping the mission area for the weekend seeking the seashore and a sunbed.

As we mentioned above, our Danish friends invested in a property in Kotor Bay. Well, to be more precise, a plot of land. What then ensued was a construction process at the top of a hill via remote coordination and by jove, they actually pulled it off. It was a stunning place. Three floors, six apartments. We were spoiled with clifftop views, a private pool and the essential Danish supply: freshly ground coffee. Living overseas was a stressful endeavour. These travel and food tales may convince you otherwise, but it became your goal to seek normality where possible and surrounding yourself with good friends as a first step. We chose well. The Danes would also say they chose well. We were a like-minded bunch and most of them attended our wedding in Scotland, so we will always be grateful for the friendships.

Memories of Montenegro, like many other locations, are filled with friends, food and fun. The journey there, either by land or road, became part of the overall adventure with the reward at the end more than making up for it. It’s a beautiful part of the world, even the mountains are lush and green when you’re able to peel your eyes away from the road for a few seconds. Rolling valleys and rocky cliffs leading down to a very narrow strip of coastline hugging the turquoise and azure Adriatic. If you’re arriving internationally, the journey is easier so add it to your list of places to go and you won’t be disappointed.

This is day eighteen in our series sharing 31 Food Memories for the 31 Days of August. We would be delighted to have you join us for the journey so please like, share and follow. We’ve got a way to go and the more the merrier!

| Day 17 | ManchesterWe are frequent visitors to Manchester and recently we visited our namesake, The Lass O’Gowrie pub....
17/08/2026

| Day 17 |

Manchester

We are frequent visitors to Manchester and recently we visited our namesake, The Lass O’Gowrie pub. Named in the 1800’s by the establishment’s first landlord, a Scot, it has an engraved copy of the eponymous poem permanently attached to the outside wall. The one in Manchester, therefore, has been around way longer than us, so when we chose to name ourselves The Lass O’Gowrie we wanted to make sure we distinguished ourselves. We use The Lass O’Gowrie (Scotland) in our social media and online presence, but we still occasionally experience some cases of mistaken identity.

We’ve had customers arrive at the café saying they have a reservation. When we check our lists we have no details, so we immediately blame ourselves thinking we have missed an email or a message. When we say we don’t have a reservation under that name, the customer is usually adamant because they did indeed make a reservation. However, when they show us the confirmation email, we politely point out that they had actually reserved a table in Manchester.

We’ve had enthusiastic job applications for bar staff from Manchester students and, on a memorable occasion, a lovely lady attempted to book her office’s night out with us – a health business based in Manchester – not once, but twice. We did offer to hire a helicopter but we both agreed in the end that the transport costs would be excessive.

There is also a Lass O’Gowrie Hotel in Australia (we’ve not made it that far yet) and we recently had a lovely email exchange with a girl who submitted an enthusiastic job application based on us sponsoring her college. She was absolutely lovely and we told her that if she did ever come all the way to Scotland we would be delighted to take her on. In the meantime, we sent her the email address for the one nearer to her and wished her well.

Manchester, of course, is huge compared to Errol. Teeming with hundreds of bars and restaurants, we’ve had plenty of meals and nights out, attended concerts, taken the trams, shopped, walked, drank and laughed.

We celebrated a birthday in Australasia, a restaurant styled on Pacific Rim foods offering a range of sushi, grilled meats and exotic ingredients. It was a “small plates” style of service and we picked a few different things to share along the table. One was “Black Cod”, which is actually not cod, but a northern Pacific sablefish. It was cooked to absolute perfection. Stunning, buttery, melt-in-the-mouth. We ordered another one and before being tempted to order a third, we were sadly informed by the staff that the kitchen had run out. No doubt for the best before we bankrupted ourselves.

Another was a pizza place called Double Zero. It was absolutely heaving. Queued out the door, with a waiting list. We added our names and went next door for drinks while we waited, did some people watching and wondered if we were actually cool enough to get in. But after an hour we got the nod and squished ourselves merrily into a corner, cracked open a now-semi-warm BYO cider and played a quick game of spot the beanie hat whilst shouting over the chatter. It was utterly exhilerating. The menu was short and simple, no fuss, about ten options, just pizza with garlic bread and some crust dippers. We wondered if the buzz about this place was justified or if it was a case of just wanting to be seen?

But the first bite told us that we had no need to be concerned. No wonder there was a queue.

Absolutely delicious, minimal ingredient, wood-fired, pizza. It was the closest thing to Italy but instead we were sitting in a small, buzzing, understandably cramped restaurant in Chorlton. They are so proud of the simplicity of their dough, they have it permanently tiled on the side wall of the restaurant. The use of imported Italian “00” flour, hence the name, water, salt and yeast.

It was the first time we encountered hot honey and when paired with spicy n’duja sausage it formed a new flavour memory for us. We now stock retail Scottish Hot Honey in the café from Piggy’s based in Glasgow. When we approached Stielow Pizza to do some pop-up events for us at the café, it was a full circle moment when we saw the bottle of Piggy’s being used for their pizzas, which are easily a match for the ones we first ate in Double Zero Manchester.

And of course we've been to the Curry Mile: eating there is almost as mandatory in Manchester as seeing Buckingham Palace in London. Restaurant Mughli was memorable for Samosa Chaat, a deconstructed samosa topped with green mint chutney, yoghurt and pomegranate. In addition to your standard curry meal or saucy curries with rice and naan, Mughli champions street food and we dined on a great selection of grilled meats and small plates that really packed a punch. Mixed pickles and charcoal pit specialities; they still do mainstream khorma and butter chicken but their tandoor breads are out of this world.

But why do we spend so much time in Manchester? Well, family is the answer and it makes our memories of this city more significant for that reason. Ali’s sister Morag lives there with her husband and children so eating out or eating in is a special occasion. Food, Family and Board Games. Little else is needed but fortunately Manchester spoils you for choice and delivers pretty much every time. Let us know if you have eaten in Manchester and how it went …….

This is day seventeen in our series sharing 31 Food Memories for the 31 Days of August. We would be delighted to have you join us for the journey so please like, share and follow. We’ve got a way to go and the more the merrier!

See when we get a message from someone and they are looking for cake and they think it's going to be impossible because ...
16/08/2026

See when we get a message from someone and they are looking for cake and they think it's going to be impossible because of a food allergy or a dietary need ........

Tell your friends. Tell the world.

We can make any cake. Drop us a message at The Lass O'Gowrie.

| Day 16 | ItalyWe’d always wanted to go to Italy and we once spent a lovely Valentine’s weekend in Rome seeing the usua...
16/08/2026

| Day 16 |

Italy

We’d always wanted to go to Italy and we once spent a lovely Valentine’s weekend in Rome seeing the usual sights of the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Sistine Chapel and the Spanish Steps. We drank espressos, ate ice cream, pasta, pizza and everything else that comes from a weekend in the capital. But we wanted to go off the beaten track, so we devised a driving food tour of the Emilia Romagna region and set about planning our trip.

It started with a car ferry from Split, Croatia to Ancona on the eastern coast of Italy. We checked in to the “Grand Palace Hotel”. Very grand it was too – probably in 1960, but it was one very interesting night based on the vintage décor and front row view of the industrial harbour across the road.

The next morning we headed west to spend a night in Bologna with a walking food tour of the town. The authentic version of spaghetti bolognese originates here, Tagliatelle al Ragu, handmade tortellini and Mortadella. We wandered through porticoes, round a salumeria (deli) with bundles of hams and cured meats hanging from the ceiling and a counter piled high with towering stacks of cheeses. We stopped to watch a lady hand-rolling tortellini with lightning speed outside her small shop.

The following morning, we headed further west and took a detour south to stop in at Maranello, the headquarters of Ferrari as well as the museum and, of course, the gift shop. One of Bob’s bucket list items ticked off.

Onwards to Modena to visit Acetaia Villa San Donnino owned by Davide Leonardi who produces some of the finest Balsamic Vinegar in the region. The vinegar is matured in small wooden casks that are hundreds of years old, thick with a port-like crust that forms during the finishing process, that can be anywhere up to 25 years. The house itself, Villa San Donnino has been used as a film set and contains original frescos from the 1800s. We tried the oldest balsamic that was thick and glossy and sweet enough for us to sample with vanilla ice cream. To this day, the only dressing we use in the café for our salads is balsamic but don’t worry, we’re not going to add it to your ice cream just yet!

West again from Modena and we checked in to Parma where we were staying for three nights. We ate in a small, local restaurant the first night that was recommended by our hosts and we encountered the biggest piece of parmesan cheese we’ve ever seen in our lives.

The following day, it was another hosted food tour and we visited three beautiful locations. The first was a Parmigiano Reggiano (Parmesan) factory where we learned how the curds were formed, split and pressed, washed and matured before being cracked open many months later. We ate a lot of cheese that day. We learned that the value of these wheels of cheese is so significant that the warehouses employ top notch security teams to guard many millions of euros worth of stock. The process of brushing the rinds was once done by hand, but it is now an automated process using a small robot like a Roomba that buzzes around the shelves, flipping and brushing the wheels in strict rotation. Towering shelves of cheese, as far as the eye could see.

The second stop was a Prosciutti (Parma Ham) producer and we saw how the raw product is hand butchered, tenderised and prepared for curing with a salted preservative paste before being strung and hung in huge curing rooms, where the air moisture level is carefully controlled to provide the perfect humidity for an exquisite ham. Both Parmigiano Reggiano and Prosciutti have the D.O.P. designation (Denominazione d' Origine Protetta) so the name is protected and restricted to only products originating from that specific geographical area.

The final stop for the day was a local, family-run, vineyard “Casale Del Groppone” where we sampled their white, rose and Lambrusco Frizzanta – sparkling red wine – and stocked up the car for the return journey home.

Our final day in Parma was the highlight of the trip: a one-day cookery course at the headquarters of the Academia de Barilla (the brand of pasta). A fantastic one-to-one session with their head chef Matteo to teach us how to prepare a full menu of Italian dishes. Starting with an octopus salad with orange and fennel, next we were shown how to make pasta, roll it and press it into various shapes. Garganelli, Ravioli, Taglietelle with ragu, tuna, veal, chard. All rounded off with lemon ice cream and chocolate cannoli and washed down with white wine. It was utterly fantastic. The simplicity of the dishes once plated was deceptive compared to the flavour they packed. The quality of the produce and its provenance really reminded us about the benefits of sourcing authentic ingredients.

No dinner was needed on our final night after Barilla and the following morning we drove south, heading right through the heart of Tuscany towards Naples and Rome. We turned up into the hills to the northeast of Rome heading for a tiny venue for just one night. We had dined in the number one restaurant in the world. Now it was time to dine in the smallest restaurant in the world.

Solo Per Due (“Only For Two”) sits high up in the hills on the border between Umbria and Lazio. As the name suggests, the restaurant has just one table for two and takes only one couple per night for dinner. Included in our booking was the use of a small, stone villa called “La Casetta” with just enough space for a bedroom and bathroom, but the views outside meant you didn’t spend long indoors. Having just devoted the previous few days to driving around, doing food tours, cooking and socialising, the peace and stillness of the villa, combined with the view and a glass of ice cold champagne in the searing heat, was utter perfection.

We got ready for dinner and headed off to the restaurant. Located in the former estate of the Italian poet Horace, the owner Remo and his son, Giovanni, host guests every night of the year. Beautifully intricate pasta dishes, salad, fresh fish: the style of the cooking was very homely and not overly fussy, just as though you were in someone’s own home. A beautiful patio just outside the dining room meant you could sit and gaze along the valley at night and see the twinkling of lights in the nearby villages.

The following morning, bleary eyed, we travelled further south, skirted around the eastern side of Rome and then inland. Our final night in Italy was going to be spent at a brand new spa resort called Aquapetra that had opened just two weeks before we arrived. A stunningly refurbished location that draws from the springs of Petra and sits within an ancient oak woodland and olive groves.

On arrival, we immediately wished we had booked to stay longer. It was stunning. A huge outdoor pool and beautifully lit up at night. We had a fabulous dinner in the restaurant and headed for an early night as we still had a long drive the next day to get to Bari in time for the ferry back to Bar in Montenegro.

The whole of our trip to Italy had been a reminder of the importance of provenance and authenticity when it comes to food. Just as we had experienced during our time in Istanbul, the generations of food knowledge and tradition were so evident in Italy. Food production techniques going back hundreds of years were still being followed and, in some cases, had been legally protected to ensure they can never be changed.

When it comes to heritage, the Italians don’t even need to try. The cradle of the Roman Empire hardly needs to prove itself. But to this day, they have preserved an astounding array of native produce and better still, they know how to use it properly and have a desire to share it around the world. Once again, we were exposed to a rich and diverse culture of food traditions, passed down through generations, remaining largely unchanged. Yes, there are cosmopolitan areas of the country, the fashionable north and the tourist areas, but you don’t need to go far off the beaten track to be reminded of the centuries old customs that exist beneath the surface.

We worked with many amazing Italian colleagues in Kosovo, and many remain friends to this day. Their passion for everything in life is unmatched and we very much appreciated the opportunity to travel through their country. So, we will always have fond memories of our experience in Italy and as an ongoing reminder, any time we catch an episode of First Dates Hotel in the UK, you can hear a small sigh emitted. It’s filmed in the Aquapetra Resport and Spa where we spent our last night. It’s a lot busier now of course, but it’s a beautiful reminder.

This is day sixteen in our series sharing 31 Food Memories for the 31 Days of August. We would be delighted to have you join us for the journey so please like, share and follow. We’ve got a way to go and the more the merrier!

| Day 15 | OmanThis time it’s our honeymoon! We took a punt on a brand new resort being built by the Six Senses Spa Reso...
15/08/2026

| Day 15 |

Oman

This time it’s our honeymoon! We took a punt on a brand new resort being built by the Six Senses Spa Resort chain and booked two weeks in “Zighy Bay” on the Musandam Peninsula, Oman.

Ali had meticulously planned our wedding from overseas, and our honeymoon was booked months in advance to get another box ticked on the “to do” list. Two weeks before Ali was due to fly home for the big day, she got a phone call from the travel agent to explain that the resort had experienced delays and wasn’t ready to open. As an alternative, we were offered Thailand or Vietnam, which we weren’t keen on because of the extra travelling. We also didn’t know what the visa requirements would be or vaccinations. The agent called back a few hours later and said that we could still go, but we needed to sign a waiver to acknowledge that only two of the planned six bars and restaurants would be open. Ali assured them that as long as the pool was finished we would be fine.

They kindly upgraded us to First Class on British Airways and we landed in Dubai ready to see what awaited us. The resort is in an exclave on the northeastern tip of the United Arab Emirates on the shores of the Gulf of Oman. In those, days paddling about on the shore opposite Iran wasn't given a second thought. We were met at the plane, plopped onto a passenger buggy and whisked off through the airport to the first-class arrivals lounge!

A member of staff took our passports and disappeared, returning later with everything stamped and cleared. We got back on to the buggy, honestly, this should be the ONLY way to travel through an airport, zooming past all the queues and straight to where our transfer was waiting for us.

We had a super posh limo, air conditioned, chilled water and fresh hand towels and we rumbled off into the desert. Crossing over the border into Oman, our driver informed us that we would rendezvous with our butler shortly and transfer to another vehicle for the final part of the journey. We thought we had misheard him. A butler?

The landscape was dry and sparse, pale, rocky, and mountainous. Hues of white, grey and pale pink with dark black shadows. It looked like a set from a Star Wars movie. In the distance, we saw a vehicle in a layby and, sure enough, there was our butler, Fayez, dressed in sky blue linen. We started the steep climb up into the Hajar Mountains, huge rocks lying at the side of the road, twisting and turning, higher and higher. Our ears popped. Eventually, we turned a sharp corner, over the top and far in the distance we saw the Gulf and stretched out as far as the eye could see, a panoramic view of Zighy Bay far below us hugging the shoreline.

We descended, twisting and turning again, lurching forward, we made good use of the Jesus handles above the windows in the back. We pulled up in front of a huge archway, the arrivals gate of Six Senses: it was like a different planet!

We were welcomed into the reception area and shown to the bar outside on the balcony, where two ice cold cocktails sat at the table waiting for us. We sat in silence for a few moments, just taking it all in.

A while later, Fayez returned and said that our villa was ready. There was a golf buggy waiting for us and we were whisked away through a sandy maze of palm trees, bamboo fences and villas. Pulling up outside ours, Fayez showed us in.
Unbeknownst to us, while we had been enjoying our cocktail, all our luggage had been taken along to the villa and unpacked. Thank GOODNESS there wasn’t anything untoward in our bags! Fayez told us to relax, and we were to expect our arrival champagne in an hour. Before he left, we commented that the resort wasn’t noisy for somewhere still being built. He told us that they didn’t use machinery, so the resort was being built by hand – one of the reasons it was delayed – so the workers would be quiet and not disturb us. We asked him how many guests were staying. “oh, just you” he said.

We had a beautiful villa with a private pool that sat right on the beach. The villa had a cute wee sign outside with either eyes closed for “do not disturb” or eyes open if you needed housekeeping, but the theme of the place was very much privacy, hideaway and relaxation. The staff were very discreet with their service, and you could feasibly just shut the door and not speak to anyone for the entire time you were there.

Breakfast was available in one of the restaurants, and one morning each week you had the option of breakfast in your villa. When we ordered our in-villa breakfast, we asked them what we could have. They told us “we will bring you food”. And bring us food they did. Lots of it. Too much, way too much, but we gave it a good bash. Breakfasts were a combination of more fruit than you could imagine with fresh pancakes, waffles, breads and pastries. You could have eggs, cooked meats, cold meats, it was an absolute bonanza. And the way the food was displayed was like an art installation.

Lunch wasn’t needed so after some beers by our pool and, yes, holiday scrabble, we trundled along in the buggy for dinner. The resort opened to the public for evening meals so we felt less guilty being surrounded by some other guests. The menu changed each night and there was a theme to what was on offer. A Middle Eastern extravaganza one night, Mexican another night, a Chinese buffet or an Indian feast. It was absolutely fantastic.

One night we had a private barbecue arranged for us on the beach outside our villa and we probably should have asked when the other thirty people were turning up based on the amount of food they brought. Freshly grilled meats, seafood, salad, tabouleh, breads. The food never got boring and everything was incredibly presented every time.

We had a tutored wine tasting one evening, held inside the resort’s own underground wine vault. We drove to Dubai for a shopping day, had a day trip on a dhow with snorkelling and lunch onboard. Probably our favourite was going wadi bashing in the Wahiba Sands followed by a Bedouin night visiting falcons, drinking mint tea, having henna, belly dancing with sh**ha and a huge buffet. We shared an Arabian sunset and watched the stars while listening to local music.

The resort offered an “arrivals experience” and you could choose from either a tandem paragliding trip or a James Bond-style speedboat arrival around the coastline. When we checked in, we were told that the experiences were not yet fully ready but two days before we were due to depart, Fayez excitedly told us that we were able to do one if we wanted to experience something different. Now, we’re pre-t-t-t-y sure that we might have been a few wines along one afternoon, but Ali decided she was going to do paragliding. Bob declined and said he would be quite happy to watch. It was all organised for the following day.

Fayez came to collect us, we transferred to the jeep and climbed once more up the twisting and turning road of the Hajar Mountains. The instructor was waiting for us at the top of the mountains and Ali got geared up and hooked on. A quick overview of what was needed, basically run and don’t stop, off we popped and before Ali knew where she was, she was soaring above Zighy Bay. Utterly breathtaking.

Bob and Fayez jumped back in the jeep and headed down to the landing area to wait for Ali’s arrival. Ali and the instructor were having a ball, swooping and soaring, taking photos, videos. Such a peaceful silence that far up. Just zooming around.

After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only about ten minutes, the instructor signalled to Ali that they were coming in to land. A couple of wee spirals to add to the excitement and the ground was getting closer. The instructor indicated to Ali that they were coming in too fast and said that she needed to put her arms up above her face. He yelled “it’s OK, don’t panic” as he frantically yanked at cords and handles. Suddenly they were spiralling again. Two small specks on the ground could be seen – it was Fayez and Bob waiting for Ali to land.

Boom. Ali landed face down on the ground with the instructor on top of her. The canopy whipped over their heads and caught the wind, dragging them both along the sandy, rocky ground headfirst. Not quite the landing that was expected or promised. Initially, the adrenalin saw Ali jumping up and down whooping and hollering like she had just come off Oblivion at Alton Towers, not quite understanding what just happened. In hindsight, minimal damage and grateful for that. Some pretty impressive scrapes, bumps and bruises but a rather busted foot so when we say Oman left a lasting impression we’re not joking.

On our final night, we were playing Scrabble in the bar (yes!) and a waiter approached our table. He told us that the sheikh had requested our company at his table. We looked over and a pleasant looking bearded gentleman was sitting on his own at a table, so we waved and he gestured us over. We joined him and drinks arrived at our table, where we stayed for the rest of the night. Now, not being funny, but he wasn’t dressed like a sheikh. He was in a casual shirt and trousers but we were too giddy to question.

We don’t remember getting back to the villa, the next thing we knew the staff were knocking on the door the following morning telling us our airport transfer was ready to leave. We packed in thirty seconds and headed to the airport. To this day we have no idea if he really was a sheikh, but our drinks didn’t cost us a penny and Ali wasn’t exchanged for camels in the night.

This is day fifteen in our series sharing 31 Food Memories for the 31 Days of August. We would be delighted to have you join us for the journey so please like, share and follow. We’ve got a way to go and the more the merrier!

Address

The Victoria Hall, High Street
Errol
PH27QP

Opening Hours

Monday 9am - 3pm
Tuesday 9am - 3pm
Thursday 9am - 3pm
Friday 9am - 3pm
Saturday 9am - 4pm
Sunday 9am - 4pm

Telephone

+441821684960

Website

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