Personal Crianlarich Memories

Station Tearoom 

When we first arrived, the tearoom on the platform at the Upper Station was known as The Refresh and was leased by the local hotel. As well as providing hot and cold drinks and snacks, it also had a liquor licence, so it was a busy, popular spot for locals as well as the travelling public. It was staffed by two sisters, Maggie and Chrissie McMaster, who were friendly and very capable but run off their feet during the busy 10-15 minute rush when a train stopped, and everyone got off for refreshments. Soon my Mum, Muriel, was helping out at those busy times, and she loved it as she too was sociable and hospitable. 

It was no surprise that when the ladies retired, and the lease was up for renewal in 1969, Mum jumped at the chance to take over, but this time without the liquor licence. She was a natural. Soon, not only did we have the trains stopping, but the Oban to Glasgow buses (W Alexander & Sons) also called in twice a day, plus road travellers and locals. Tied to the lease was the stipulation that we had to be open to act as a Waiting Room any time a train was due. The result was that we opened at 7.30 am for the first train going through and didn't close until 9 pm after the last train. The unexpected benefit of being open so early was that she also attracted the postmen and delivery drivers, so there was never a lull in business! 

I mentioned we shut at 9 pm on a normal day, but there were many times, especially in the winter, when the last train got delayed. So basically, we shut whenever that train passed. On a few occasions, during a particularly snowy winter, it was as late as midnight. You can imagine the delight on the faces of the cold, tired and hungry passengers when they saw the lights were still on! Mind you, as Mum said, 'if we'd shut up shop, what would we have done with all those hot pies, sausage rolls, sandwiches and gallons of tea and coffee'. 

The many incidents that occurred over seven years Mum ran the tearoom, helped by my sister Kyreen and a friend, Linda Black from the village, are too numerous to mention. My sister recalls how, sometimes, when trains were crossing, one heading north and the other back to Glasgow, people would get disoriented after purchasing their snack. The tearoom was in the middle of two platforms and had a door on each side. The passenger would enter from the train side they were travelling on, but exit through the one opposite, jumping onto an entirely wrong train in panic as the whistle blew. It probably didn't take them long to discover they couldn't find their seat, and they were heading back the way they'd come with their luggage going in the opposite direction. No mobile phones in those days to tell their bewildered companions what had happened. Some of the train drivers were very protective of their 'flock' and would stand at the back of the queue, reassuring nervous passengers that the train wouldn't go without them. They'd roar, 'I'm the train driver and the train won't go anywhere until I've got my tea'. Then they'd check with each departing passenger that they were heading to the right train. Customer service at its best. Of course, Mum never charged any of those drivers and guards for their refreshments and indeed would pack up a doggie bag of leftover goodies to take back to their families. 

With all that history, you can imagine my surprise a few years ago when my sister, who was living in Killin at the time, and I decided to have a day trip to Glasgow from Crianlarich. Neither of us had been there for years, so we thought we'd get breakfast at the Station Tearoom. To our dismay, it was closed. We'll get something on the train, we thought, but alas, no trolley was available that day. So we endured a long, hungry journey to Glasgow, looking at each other in disbelief....what price progress?! 

I'm not sure if this happens now, but back in the day, if the train to Oban was running slightly late, Dad would phone John MacKenzie in the CalMac office and ask if he could delay the Mull ferry slightly to allow train passengers to catch the boat, and equally, John would ask if the train could be held up if the ferry was running late. Obviously, it couldn't be held too long or risk a knock-on effect, but on the days where just a few minutes made all the difference, and you weren't stranded overnight for the sake of a few minutes, it worked really well. There was a real sense of personal satisfaction between these two men in getting folk to their destinations. 

At the time when Mum was employed in the tearoom by the hotel, around 1966, there was no electricity in that part of the station building. As a seven-year-old, my brother Derek used to walk home from school by himself to Mum at work in the tearoom, and it was his job to prime and light the Tilley lamps that were used. About six to eight of them, as he recalls. He loved it. 

It was Mum who paid to have electricity installed when she took over. Another example of how recently electricity has become the norm, and also the faith put in children to act responsibly. Health and Safety would be appalled!

Notable Customers

We also had some notable customers. Several times a year, a Nanny would arrive off the London Sleeper with her two charges. While they waited, they'd request hot milk and scrambled egg rolls. These children were the future Princess Diana and her brother Charles Spencer on their way to visit their mother, Frances Shand Kydd, on the Isle of Seil. 

Keeping on the Royal theme, shortly after her marriage to Lord Snowdon, Princess Margaret passed through on the Royal Train and the village schoolchildren were allowed to wave flags as the train approached. Her carriage happened to stop right where we were standing, and for several minutes we all stared at her while she performed the royal wave to us. It had just started to get uncomfortable when, to our mutual relief, I'm sure, the train moved off. I'm not sure which of the boys said 'och, she's just a wee wifey'. 

Prince Charles and Harold Wilson also passed through, but the most infamous regular customer was Jimmy Savile. He was Chieftain of the Lochaber Highland Games during the 70s and would, much to my mother's dislike, insist on coming through the serving hatch to our side of the counter to serve people, asking for random amounts in payment. At the end, he'd have a pile of money and would suggest flipping a coin as to whether he put it in the till or kept it for his Charity. No matter which way the coin flipped, Mum, of course, donated it to the Charity. It wasn't the money that upset her; it was just his rude and high-handed manner. She was always glad to see him go again. 

The Village School

Crianlarich Primary only ever had around 20 pupils while I was there, and we were taught with great diligence by our Head Teacher, the redoubtable Miss Galbraith. The photo here was taken around 1963, and I was delighted to meet up this year with two of my former classmates after 57 years! Alex Strathdee, who was the Postman's son, and John Harris, whose Aunts ran the very popular Buchanan's Tearoom, now the Rod & Reel.  

John, Alex and I enjoyed a great afternoon of reminiscing, and they reminded me of Miss Galbraith's habit of addressing the boys as Boy Strathdee and Boy Harris while she used forenames only for the girls. We all agreed she was an excellent teacher and instilled in us  

a very strong understanding of the basics. Although instilling good grammar was a particular passion, we also had some fun times putting on little concerts for our parents at the end of term.

Life for children in those days was very different. We were encouraged to get outside every day for hours, completely unsupervised. We reminisced about how all of us would disappear up one of the surrounding hills and play make-believe games of cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, and generally roam wild. No one had a watch, so only hunger or fading light sent us home. If it wasn't the hills, it was the river. Lots of potential for our imaginations there, not to mention hazards. Somehow, we all survived, and we agreed that, sadly, these pastimes and self-esteem-building opportunities for children no longer exist. 

Community Life

Dad had a strong community spirit and was very involved in helping run village activities. He and the local shopkeeper,  Peter Henderson, among others, ran Bowls Club, Whist drives, Badminton, Dances, Youth Club and so on. The Village Hall was a focal point for many activities, especially before televisions were introduced to the village in any great number.

The Village Dances were legendary as everyone attended, young and old. Mostly the music was provided by Ceilidh Bands, and we youngsters certainly loved learning all the traditional Scottish folk dances, watching our elders. Being swung round off your feet by a burly Shepherd wasn't for the faint-hearted. I wonder if anyone else remembers 'Donald the Swing'. 

As the 60s progressed, however, the teenagers rebelled and pleaded to be allowed to hold Discos and much to our delight, a DJ was hired regularly. All went well until May 1967, when the big hit of the time was played several times - San Francisco (be sure to wear flowers in your hair). Suddenly, flowers appeared mysteriously and were handed out to all the girls, who, of course, complied willingly. No one gave a thought about it. My blood ran cold when I heard my mother on the phone the following morning to her friend Daisy Herd, who lived right opposite the Hall. Daisy's beautiful, colourful garden was her pride and joy! My Mother's words told me all I needed to know, 'Oh no, Daisy, surely not? Every single one?  I hastily hid the sad-looking bloom on my bedside table. 

And so those 14 years living in Crianlarich still stand out as a happy and memorable time in my life. 

Thank you

Thank you to Sheila Macdonald for sharing her family memories of Crianlarich, and for all the photographs on this page.