Koninginnedag interrupted

Today was the Queensday (Koninginnedag), a holiday in the Netherlands where everyone sells their second hand goods on the streets, and wears orange to celebrate the Dutch royal family. I was all dressed up in my orangest outfit and sucking my orange dummy to mark the occasion.

Here in Leiden we had brunch with another archaeologist and his wife and their little girl, and then looked over some of the second hand junk for sale - everything from china kittens to traditional Dutch tiles to a weird fossilised spider in a fossilised web. As usual there were Dutch oompa bands everywhere and ear-splitting patriotic music.

But in the early afternoon we noticed all the oompa music had stopped. We found out there had been a tragedy in Apeldoorn, where the royals were gathered to visit the people. As a mark of respect all oompa music was silenced and the stall holders ordered to pack up their goods and go home. As a result the streets of Leiden were full of provincial Dutch chavvies with nowhere to go.

Rahel and Eugenia

Here I am with Mum's friend Rahel and her baby, Eugenia. They live in Rotterdam but they came to Leiden for an afternoon. We had a picnic and I discovered that if you press a strawberry very hard in your fist, it mushes into pulp. Fascinating.

Two winning houses

Here I am in the Netherlands. You always knew it was a tolerant country, so you won't be surprised to see that I have started a casino for babies! Here you see me counting my chips after another successful evening. Sometimes my customers complain that I want the romper suit off their backs, but the chips are always stacked in favour of the house. I provide free rusks to keep them in the venue and spending big.

I also visited Mum and Dad's old home in Hooigracht. When they lived there it was a damp, decrepit hospital, overrun with ne'er-do-wells and maniacs. These days it has been updated and there is a swish bar where there used to be simply the sound of Japanese students whimpering as they were mugged by syringe wielding junkies. Mum and Dad's old apartment has become a business - look closely to see what you can acquire if you go there!

That's right - it is now a purveyor of 'first class nannies'! No wonder I am so well looked after - I got my parents from a nanny agency.

My new friends

I made friends with a local lady called Margaret who showed Mum and I how to spin wool. Even better, she has a house full of fascinating toys, such as a wooden giraffe who wears a tam-o-shanter at a jaunty angle.

I made a point of visiting Margaret and her toys for tea several times. Her house looks out directly onto the sea and across to the islands of Raasay and Skye.

I noticed her husband, Norman, speaking a slightly different sort of grown-up babble with his friends. This is called Gaellic and is spoken in some parts of Scotland.

Uags

Today we tramped up a very rough track to an abandoned village called Uags. The last time people lived here was around 1918. They used to come and go by boat and having made the arduous trip by land I can see why! A five mile round trip took us almost five hours.

One of the ruins has been restored as a 'bothy' and anyone can stay here for a few days for free. You can see me above enjoying a rough chair pulled together from bits of wood in the bothy's front room.

Our new friend Norman's father was born in this village. The last census taken here showed a baby of 1 year old called Mary who was perhaps the last baby to be here before me!

Backdation to the future

Stay tuned for a bevy of what the Australian Public Service calls 'backdation' - I will update all my posts with pics this Saturday from Edinburgh.

Applecrossing

We're staying in Applecross, one of the remotest parts of Scotland! The road to Applecross is notoriously bad - there are many hairpin turns, a single lane and it it the highest road in the UK. For me personally it is no good because the ascent/descent of this mountain pass hurts my ears, so I take the opportunity to squeal as loudly as possible whenever we drive over it.

I am writing this from a town called Gairloch in the top left hand corner of mainland Britain. It took us three hours to drive here from Applecross. They are not big on the internet in Applecross - even the newspapers do not appear in the shop until 1pm each afternoon.

My BIG news is that I have started cutting a tooth! My favourite moment of the day is now brushing my tooth each evening before bed. MMMMM - chewy bristles!

Sheepish Wubba

There are a LOT of sheep in Applecross - and it's lambing season! I have discovered the subtle humour of the 'baaaa-baaaa' sound. Made by human or sheep, it is hilarious!

The finishing line

Finally, the end of our walking trip next to Inverness Castle.

Kilometres walked: 150 (Mum); 180 (Dad); 0 (Wubba)

Full Scottish Breakfasts eaten: 9 (Dad); 0 (Mum); 0.0001 (Wubba)

Kendall Mint Cake consumed: 0

China kitten ornaments seen in B & Bs: >100

**stop press**back in civilisation**

I finally arrived in Inverness today after being lugged 150 km!

On the trail of the Loch Ness Monster

A strange thing - as we walk along the shores of Loch Ness I keep seeing a large, reptillian creature raising its head above the waters. I keep shouting 'Cat! Cat!' to alert everyone but by the time they turn around it has always disappeared.

Hands for feet

Here you see me with rather simian gloves on my feet. Fear not, dear readers - I have not become an ape-baby. Much as I would love to have hands for feet, this was simply for warmth. Well, you can see it wasn't for fashion sense....

Occasional series: Stunning views I have slept through #2

The Great Glen Way

The Great Glen way runs from Fort William to Inverness, a total of 117km. After a few days warming up by rushing over mountains doing a few stages of the West Highland Way, my bearers are ready for something a little more gentle. I must say I prefer the sunny weather, picnic opportunities and general flat terrain of this walk, which I have broken into a civilised six stages instead of the recommended 4.

Occasional series: Stunning views I have slept through...

Notes toward a definition of the word 'more'

Among other interests I am a keen amateur philologist, studying the etymology and usage of the 'words' with which the big people are so keen on communicating. Personally I think crying is more effective and more efficient in getting one's way, but they can't seem to help babbling on so I do make an attempt to understand what they are saying.

One of the words I've noticed lately is 'more'. It usually indicates that a spoonful of mashed banana or perhaps mushy apple is coming my way. Over the last few days though, I've noticed it being used, well, more.

For example, the phrase 'just a little bit more' seems to be trotted out whenever I politely request that we go in out of the rain and stop stomping about over mountaintops. I translate it to mean 'there are five more hours to go, kindly go to sleep and wait for them to be over.' Also, 'Rannoch Moor' which seems to mean 'never ending expanse of drizzle-lashed heathland'.

West Highland Way

Finally, the time has come for us to start our hiking adventure. I do hope my bearers are fit enough to carry me to all the places I am so keen to see. Listening to them panting and puffing is so tiresome.

After taking the train up to Tyndrym we stayed the night in a B&B. In the afternoon we thought we would practice for the main event so we walked a little way south along the West Highland Way. Here you see my mother straddling a 'style' of the type which the Famous Five are so often found leaping over in pursuit of smugglers.

The Baby-Carrier in art and society

Yesterday we met up with reknowned artist Andrew Slater and his equally reknowned girlfriend Sarah Cook.

On a trip to the National Gallery of Scotland, I was able to continue my research for my monograph entitled 'The Baby Carrier in Art and Society'.

I was delighted to happen upon this scene which clearly shows that no less a baby than Jesus approves of baby carriers! Note the depiction of the woman worshipping the newly arrived Christ Child while wearing her less holy, but still historically important, baby on her back.

This shows that Life does indeed wear Art on her back, or front, nestled snugly in the latest baby carrying technology.

The art of deception

Today I visited the ruins of Dryburgh Abbey, the final resting place of reknowned 19th century Scottish novelist Sir Walter Scott.

His famous novels include Ivanwubba, Wub Woy, The Wubba of the Lake, Wubbaley, The Wubba of Midlothian and The Bride of Wubbamoor.

As well as these seminal books, he penned the oft-quoted lines Oh what a tangled web we weave/when first we practice to deceive.

With this couplet in mind, I pointed to some birds in the sky and said: 'Cat! Cat! Cat!'

Ahahaha. Sometimes even I can't help laughing out loud at my sophisticated witticisms.

Dead wood and young growth

Today I visited the Edinburgh Botanic Gardens with my paternal Grandma.

It was as fine a spring day as Edinburgh is likely to offer and I was pleased to visit an ancient fossilised tree.

I also spied a large greenhouse full of lush vegetation. Thinking perhaps the warm air would help me to grow larger I spent some time there, having my sedan-chair wheeled around by my bearers, but sadly I was only a little taller by the end....

Trainspotting

Here I am en route to Edinburgh, or Auld Reekie as it was once known due to its unpleasant smell in pre-sanitation days. I can't wait to add my own smell to the mix. Perhaps I can be called Young Reekie?

My new religion

Daddy is an atheist. Mummy is an agnostic Catholic. But since staying at Neil and Jo's house, I have discovered my own religion. Today I was baptised into the Orthodox Church of Alethea.

The tenets of my religion are as follows:

I hold this truth to be self-evident, that in a few months I too shall be able to pull everything out of a cupboard and onto the floor. I believe in the life of the world to come: a world in which I shall pour my water out of the cup and onto the floor. I believe that Alethea's name is 'Cat! Cat! Cat!'