guidl, filling in the gaps

This summer, we spent a week with friends at my grandparents’ home in the foothills of the Cairngorms. Within easy reach of lochs and glens, and only a short drive away from, in my opinion, the most beautiful stretch of coastline in Britain. Blissful surroundings and blissful company, with the ‘blissful’ addition of two small people to add to the fun! Whilst the adults in our group might have been secretly ready to stop, put feet up, and spend a week reading books, the children certainly were not. So we spent five glorious days getting out and about exploring all this area of Scotland has to offer, from beaches (mentioned!), castles, gardens and the relics of iron age forts, to golf courses, tea rooms and farm shops galore.  

It was a great week, and we hugely enjoyed it. But there was something missing, and we all felt it. Everywhere we went. And you’ve guessed it! It was guidl. All lovers of learning, at the castle and gardens we enjoyed reading the room guide cards (whilst trying to stop at least one little one pulling them apart). But we'd have loved to learn more about the beautifully curated gardens dating back to the 1700s (and make our trip around the house a little easier too!). Visiting the loch and surrounding glens, we enjoyed the beautiful day and stunningly peaceful views, but we’d have loved to learn more about Queen Victoria’s famous visit to the area in 1861, being just over the way from Balmoral, and about the loch’s habitats, and uses, today. Taking our friends to the relics of an iron age hill fort, just outside my grandparents village, we enjoyed the views to the sea and into the mountains, but we’d have loved to walk more than the stones remaining which outlined the parameters, and instead walk the histories of the communities who built and inhabited the forts in their heyday.  

You get the gist. guidl has so much potential. The potential to bring every landscape and/or place of interest to life, to help us know so much more about the world we inhabit. And enrich our experience of life in doing so. We wondered how fishermen had caught their salmon back in the 1800s as we walked a path in the dunes at the back of the beach and looked on at now abandoned netting posts. With a guidl tour of that same path, we’d have been able to find out, imagine, go down new avenues of thought and discussion, and bring even more vibrancy to that stretch of coastline I love than the huge skies and gentle waters do on their own.  

Come on and join the guidl movement. We’d love to have you!

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