The south bit of Killin lets through the Falls of Dochart and they're usually on fine, flowing form given all the rain round here. This marks the end of the Western Highlands as you make your way east along Loch Tay into Perthshire and all of its attractions.
Sadly, this was the recent scene of a young girl's murder and suspicions frequently switched in the ongoing investigation.
Hang on a minute! That was a different The Killing, the studied, if a little protracted, exploration of the fictional aftermath. BBC4 has just been binged on and the fact and the fantasy are getting all mixed up.
The village's name derives from the Gaelic for White Church, unlike a Broadchurch, which blatantly nicked from The Killing yet nobody seemed to notice?
So the former oatmeal mill might contain some local history and\or it might host local events and\or it might be a charity shop but, either way, you'll have to brave the wolf at the door to find out.
What it definitely doesn't have is a working wheel, which is a shame. Wire this thing up as hydroelectric and the Falls of Dochart could power half of Perthshire, probably.
Just the other side of the bridge marks the traditional burial ground of Clan Macnab. They had long associations with Killin but there was an ousting of sorts by the Campbells in the 17th century.
Now, here's a dilemma. A big fan of Ian McNabb including his work with the but there are matrimonial loyalties to the Duke Of Argyll. A free cup of tea in Inveraray Castle café or your sensational, second album The Small Price of a Bicycle? Sorry Ian, it's the discount shortbread every time.
Sadly, this was the recent scene of a gruesome murder, a body made up of two parts laid meticulously and exactly halfway across.
Hang on a minute, that was a different The Bridge. Nurse! It's happening again, can you unplug that BBC iPlayer™?
The north bit of Killin is where you'll find the industrial hub and it's handy for the lavs. It's also near the shore of Loch Tay and a couple of short walks.
Happily this wasn't the scene of a recent murder, in fact, all of that was getting a bit Borgen. Just take yourself for a bit of a Wallander around the loch and things shouldn't Spiral out of control too much, eh?
Meanwhile, back in the future, there hasn't been a half-decent, imported, BBC4 Euro-drama since all of those mentioned so that's enough of that, definitely.
Besides, between the falls and the lavs, there's half a mile of high street to peruse, which is a little too far should the sound of gushing water set you off. That might make for a pit stop at Shutters where the outdoor seating is no longer mandatory following you-know-what.
Nor is it desirable, neither, had this been half-an-hour later when the latest of today's downpours decides to hit with what's snow, not hail, in May!
It was many Mays ago, incidentally, while munching on some cake in here that an oldish fella politely corrected Bob's mispronunciation of Loch and, whenever north of the border, I've been talking like a plastic Scotsman ever since.
Main Street is a fine mix of the retail and fancy residential and the Killin Outdoor Centre caters for the hardcore and sports some serious-looking canoes outside.
Sly just wanted a new jumper but had conveniently forgotten the VISA™. Bob coughed for the fleece, you're welcome, and some casual chit-chat ensued...
Heading towards Pitlochry, some advice for a walk was welcome. Ben Vrackie is 2,800-foot and will take you at least four hours. We ended up on a two-mile-long woodland path in Aberfeldy and the new, woolly protector wasn't really needed and is now stuck in a cupboard, somewhere.
Saying that, from memory it offered some protection from the wet and might have come in handy today, eh?