A Northern Journal

I really don’t know what has happened to the summer holidays and all my wonderful (hah!) plans to keep the blog up-dated.

Anyway, for the first time in ages we ventured off the island for a holiday. Now getting on a ferry is definately not my first choice of activity, but it has to be done. Yeah, I know I chose to live on an island… but little did I know back then some 17 years ago, that I would develop an interesting relationship with the ferry… no that’s a wee lie! I knew that on the first trip in March 1992 on the old(er) little St Ola  and that was one of the worst crossings of the Pentland Firth that I have ever had… even now. I don’t mind boats if I can get fresh air or lie down, oh, and when it is calm, so I was rather delighted when the early morning Hamnavoe left Stromness on a mill pond. As always, we first had some breakfast on board then I headed out on deck to watch Stromness disappear. Departing out through Hoy sound was rather surreal. Flat calm and quiet except for the thrum of the engines and an American musician friend playing a rather lovely tune on his whistle. I did wonder if those early risers on the camps site in Stromness heard that ethereal music drifting across the water. I then took myself off to sleep on one of the leather sofas.

The journey down the road was uneventful but the temperature was rising and our little car is very basic so the air conditioning was turned on - we wound the windows down! We had the stipulatory stop off for ice cream in Brora, then to Lower Arboll near Tain where we dropped our friend off at an amazing old croft where a very clever woodworker lives and works. He makes the most beautiful organic looking wooden jewelery. A well needed cup of tea and a tour of the beautiful two acre woodland garden set us up well for the rest of the day. Oh but to dream of a treeish garden like that!

And the sun shone!

We stopped in Dingwall to buy lunch then headed west to visit my mum and stepdad. We partook of lunch in a peaceful lay-by by a loch then drove on the fabulous two-way road that would take us all the way to Kinlochewe. This is a fast road that sweeps through the glens along loch and riverside and through hills and ever increasing mountains. A huge difference on the twisty windy upsy downsy single track road that used to make me travel sick as a kid.

And the sun continued to shine!

We were greeted with yet more sun and by my parents at Arrina on the northern coast of the Applecross Peninsula, overlooking Loch Torridon. Miraculously, we weren’t greeted by midges. The heat must have been keeping them away - Phew! We spent two nights here.

On the first night Mum and I walked up the hill in the evening to be greeted by a most wonderful sunset (and a handful of midges). It was very warm, even at ten at night. The next day was spent in Applecross - lunch at The Potting Shed in the walled garden of Applecross House, the spinach, parmesan and sweet chilli soup so good that we all had seconds. A walk through woodland and a bit of moorland followed with trousers tucked into socks (Mum and I were severely ticked here last year). The trees did an excellent job of posing for all the photos I took. We also had a stroll through Applecross and visited the unfortunate run down shop. We returned ‘home’ the long way over the Bealach Nam Bo (Pass of the Cattle), a corkscrew of a road winding down the side of a corrie.

After two nights, we headed south aiming for Moffat as our stopover as it was about half way to where we headed. The A9, well, was the A9 as it always is. The weather was mixed, but the traffic flowed smoothly. Ralia Cafe is an excellent place to stop for lunch and very nice coffee. We arrived at our Victorian guest house (there are a lot of Victorian houses) in Moffat late afternoon, got ourselves settled then went to explore and eat. It was gala week so we saw the spectacle (if it can be called that) of the wheelbarrow pub crawl! Ummmm! Not the most flattering way to show off a town. Moffat is a nice town and I discovered from the guest house owners that it was a spa town, I thought it grew around the wool trade or something.

We left to head south the next morning, me driving, aiming for the M6 and real motorway driving… a scary prospect when you spend most of your time driving on an island!