Our excursion today took us up along the shores of the freshwater Loch Eck, on our way to Jail - Inveraray Jail to be precise. To continue the days' theme, Aunty Mary told us the sad tale of their families little West Highland Terrier, owned when her boys were quite young. Ludwig had gone missing and after extensive searching was still not found. Then a friend mentioned they had been up near Loch Fyne and had seen a little white dog just like him in the caravan park. Mary jumped in her car and drove like the wind as she was concerned the thieves could leave at any time. Entering the caravan park, she opened her car door and called his name, and the dog jumped straight in! She sped triumphantly away, with the horrid people chasing after her and shouting and waving their arms! She had Ludwig back! (Although both Paul and Bram are not so convinced that the thief was not their mother, as in later discussions with them, they both confirm they thought it was a different Westie all together…… )

Loch Fyne is filled with sea water - in fact this is the Atlantic Ocean, and at the top you have to cross a bridge where there is a little stream also feeding into it. As the tide brings the saltwater all the way up and under this bridge, it is therefore not an exaggeration to state that you cross the Atlantic when you pass from one side of the bridge to the other!

We waved to the Duke of Argyll as we passed his lovely castle and grounds, but just as with "Her Maj" in London, he was rather snobby and didn't bother to wave back.

The imposing front of the Inveraray Jail was not what you would call a welcoming sight, but then I guess it wasn't meant to be, either. A prison for all, men, women, children and the insane. Inside its thick stone walls, we read the sad tales of some of the inmates, the crimes committed and the types of punishment you could expect to receive. Petty criminals housed alongside those whose crimes were horrendous, no concept of rehabilitation, just punishment.

We sat in the public gallery of the courtroom amidst the lifelike mannequins and listened to the prosecutor question a witness in a trial from the early 1800's. Then off to the women's jail block, with real-life costumed guard looking severe outside the front door, his huge bunch of keys dangling from his waist. Small cells, tiny windows looking out onto a tall brick wall, no heating or private washing facilities and nothing to do all day! This block also housed those considered insane, as there was no other place to keep them and the public "safe". One man, who had lost his marbles and sadly killed his 10-year-old daughter, was locked up here for over 30 years. It would drive you mad just spending a week inside I would think.

Also held here were underage children, sometimes for months, including a small 8-year-old boy who was so poorly dressed they had to find clothing for him before he could be seen by the judge for sentencing. He was arrested for theft of food, being the only provider for 3 younger siblings, both parents having died. He was held for a month on the theft charge and then sent to Edinburgh and a reform school. No mention of what happened to his siblings…..

The building housing the mens cells were little better. This was built due to increased prisoner numbers, initially both sexes were held in the same building. As it was more "modern" there were toilet and washrooms on each floor, as well as some form of centralised heating. Also living in tiny rooms in this building were the doctor and also the prison warder, who worked 7 days a week, 24 hours a day basically, and no real holidays. Imagine being married to him, as some were? The family lived in the town, not inside the jail. Although at least one had his wife in charge of the women prison, so they lived and worked together on-site.

Nick had a shocking experience in one of these cells, as he entered the room and saw a tall, smartly dressed figure standing in the corner. Intent on reading the information around the walls, he was startled when the figure spoke to him in a deep voice - he thought it was another dressed mannequin, not a real character actor! At least it wasn't the resident ghost, though.

The Airing Yards were definitely airy - open topped rectangles of stone walls with bars on two ends, they did allow some form of exercise walking up and back, but the only view was to more stone walls and paved ground. Not a green thing to be seen. Am not sure what an hour a day in this environment really did to improve your fitness.

Possibly the strangest story we discovered was the fisherman who was arrested and incarcerated for killing fish! What the??

Matt was successfully paroled from this establishment, having had his prisoner card stamped in each of the areas, so we left with the same number of passengers in the car we had arrived with, luckily.

Back over the Atlantic and home to the freedom of Inverchapple there was just time for another quick run up the hill behind the house to take those photos with the (now fully charged) camera, before we left to catch the ferry from Gourock.

Paul arrived late to meet us again (at least he is consistent) and we travelled back to Aberfoyle with a detour through the streets of central Glasgow. Not sure why Paul says it is a busy bustling centre of activity…….. it was practically deserted on this early Sunday evening.