Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The road to the Highlands



They say time passes more and more quickly the older we become, but I still can’t believe it’s two whole years since we were able to make more than a fleeting visit to our beloved north coast of Scotland. But the calendar doesn’t lie and two years it is. Thankfully the drought is about to break and on Thursday we shall finally be heading north again. So while the washing machine is churning with a final load, I’m taking a break from making lists and packing to bring you up-to-date.

Looking back to our brief trip early last year it’s hard to believe how much has happened since. Back then the referendum on EU membership was still in the future and the US presidential election was just moving into the primary contest season. I could never have imagined how strongly my attention would become monopolised by the unfolding drama that is politics on the other side of the Atlantic and here at home the unfolding disaster that is Brexit. Add to all this the huge amount of work involved in the clearing and sale of the old house and it's no wonder my poor blogging muse went AWOL.

But now spring is here, summer time has begun and it’s time to hit the road to the Highlands once again. The very small campervan is now distinctly ageing and has been retired from such long journeys, so it will be the very small car which will somehow absorb all the things we need for a month’s stay in one of the most beautiful places on earth. So it’s hey ho for the open road and I’ll see you in bonnie Scotland.


Thursday, February 04, 2016

Time to go home…

…for a while at least. Time has been up to its usual tricks since we travelled up to the north coast almost a fortnight ago. On the one hand it seems no time at all since we arrived and unpacked. On the other we seem to have been here for ages, so settled do we feel. We’ve certainly been busy, DH with his database work and frequent visits to the office of the local community transport organisation he does some work for, me with housework and church, friends and Knit & Natter.

But now the time has come to pack up and head south again, since I have an unbreakable and longstanding commitment to get ready for, of which more anon. In the meantime I’ll leave you with a selection of the few photographs I’ve managed to take over these cold, wet and stormy two weeks, most of which were taken as the tyre of a friend’s car was changed after a puncture on the way home from Knit & Natter yesterday. If one has to have a puncture, there can be few more lovely places to have one.

White caps on the Kyle, whipped up by the gales of Storm Gertrude

Ben Loyal from the village of Tongue - waiting for my lift

The houses of Talmine nestle in the lee of the hill, sheltered from the westerlies

Looking out over Talmine Bay while waiting for the wheel to be changed

The Rabbit Islands 

Going for a sail in Talmine Bay

Finally, for those like me for whom the words “Time to go home” find a strong echo from their own or their children’s childhoods, here is today’s theme tune…





Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Heading north

As you may remember, our usual autumn visit to the glorious North-West Highlands had to be cancelled last year, so we have been starting to look forward to heading north again when spring arrived. In the meantime, having recovered from the round of family visits over the festive season, I was settling in nicely to a quiet winter at home when DH casually dropped a very small bombshell at bedtime last night.

On our way to bed we stopped to look out of the landing window at the frost already forming on roofs and road and it occurred to him that the little house on the north coast hadn’t been winterised as usual. Except for the odd night or two of frost it’s been an unusually mild winter so far, but of course there’s no guarantee that this will continue and the last thing we would want would be to arrive in spring to find that we’d had a burst pipe weeks or months ago.

Our frosty Welsh garden

It didn’t take us long this morning to decide that a trip north sounded like a good idea and since then I’ve spent the day turning the contents of the vegetable basket into soup for the freezer and generally getting ready for a spur-of-the-moment winter break for a couple of weeks.

My camera is packed, along with my new pride and joy, a Samsung tablet (my early 70th birthday present to myself). So I will be blogging from the north for a little while and hoping for some clear weather to capture again the beauty and wildness of that extraordinary landscape.  See you there…

Ben Loyal in the snow


Monday, May 04, 2015

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside

For much of my childhood the highlight of the summer was our annual Wakes Week holiday at Fleetwood or Morecambe or another of the even then slightly faded but much loved seaside resorts which line the Lancashire coast. If we couldn’t manage a whole week, there would be at least a day-trip or two, always by train. My memories are of buckets and spades, sandcastles, donkey-rides on the beach and first paddling, then swimming, in the always chilly waters of the Irish Sea.

When we moved to Mid-Wales in the early 1970s the resorts changed, but the pattern of occasional day trips to the seaside, now by car, continued while our children were small, though with wonderful countryside immediately around us, the pull of the coast rapidly diminished. Instead it was their grandparents who took our two for a week at the seaside from time to time.

Now in retirement we are lucky enough to spend extended periods of time in close proximity to a very different kind of coast, empty of resorts, and with not a promenade or wrought-iron pier in sight. Instead, within a very few miles of where we stay, there are cliffs and sandy beaches, little coves and tiny harbours, sandbanks where seals can sometimes be spotted sunning themselves, and the kind of tempting, uninhabited islands that children’s stories were written about in my youth.  And what is even more wonderful is that, far more often than not, when you go there you will have these magical spots entirely to yourself.

So come with me on a short tour of our favourite corners in this small area of the eternally fascinating and unspoilt coast of the North-West Highlands.

We begin on the Kyle of Tongue, that wide, shallow estuary
 to which Ben Loyal and Ben Hope form such a magnificent backdrop.



There we find the sandbanks, where, if you're lucky,
you may see seals sunning themselves and occasionally 
rolling over into the water to catch themselves a quick snack.



Continuing north along the Melness peninsula, we come to Talmine Bay.


Here, as well as its pale sand and pebble beach,  is the small stone jetty 
which turns this corner into a safe harbour for small boats
and a final resting place for a long-abandoned one.



Towards the tip of the peninsula lies one of our favourite places, 
 the tiny former fishing hamlet of Port Vasgo in its little bay,
its boats long gone and half its cottages now in ruins.


No gentle sandy beach here, just knife-edged rocks, 
through which those long-ago fishermen laboriously cut a channel
 to allow their boats to be winched up out of the water to safety.


From Port Vasgo you can walk west across sheep-nibbled turf 
to a tiny, nameless beach, tucked between cliff and rocks.


Even Perpetua reverts to childhood dreams here.


Another quarter turn to the left and from the rocks you can see Midfield beach, 
though you can only access it by clambering precariously across the rocks, 
or more sensibly via another path from inland.


It's back to the car to drive round to the inner edge of the bay 
and lovely Achininver beach, where you climb down  wooden steps
and across tussocky sand-dunes to reach the water's edge.

And finally, for a proper view of those Enid Blyton adventure islands, 
we need to drive to the other side of the Kyle 
and look back across to Melness and its hidden gems.




Sunday, April 26, 2015

April showers with a difference

While the rest of the UK has been continuing to bask under blue skies and warm sunshine, up here in the frozen north we have gone in just 4 days from this:
  

to this:


The promised return to winter materialised with a vengeance today, with my walk to church this morning taken in the teeth of a fierce hail shower driven by a bitter northerly wind. Thank goodness the church is not much more than a quarter of a mile away! The service was followed by a walk home an hour later in windless calm and amid gently falling snow.


Since then calm and fitfully sunny intervals have alternated with driving, heavy hail, sleet and snow showers which sweep along the valley from the sea to the north, hiding the castle, kyle and mountains from sight. It’s been an afternoon for quiet knitting, accompanied by tea and hot, buttered toast, interrupted by the occasional dash to the window to watch the weather change yet again.

Who stole the castle?

As I write it is snowing hard, but by the time I post this, the sun may be out again and the water droplets glittering from every twig of the still leafless silver birch in the garden. April at her most capricious.





Postscript:  It was worth waking early and braving the cold of the conservatory to capture this view before the sun moves round behind the mountain until the afternoon. We had more snow overnight.




Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Capricious April

“Oh, to be in England now that April’s there”  Robert Browning may have had a point, though he was writing from the lush warmth of an Italian spring, rather than the chilly dampness of a northern Scottish season. The last fortnight’s scattering of lovely sunny days may soon seem like a dream if the weather forecast for this area is to be believed. 

With luck the promised showers will be of rain, rather than the snow which accompanied our journey north at the beginning of the month, but wintry showers are not beyond the bounds of possibility by the weekend.


Thank goodness DH and I took advantage of the sunny weather to get out and about a bit. The landscape of the North-West Highlands is wonderful whatever the weather, but in sunshine it is truly spectacular and our respective cameras have been working overtime.

The road north on a snowy April Fool's Day

Ben Loyal the morning after our arrival

And a week later after a beautifully sunny Easter.

The Kyle of Tongue heading north to the sea

A symphony in grey - no leaves to soften the trees yet

Clouds over the mountains of Sutherland herald a change in the weather

A very different sunset this evening

Still, at least the disappearance of the sun gives me an excellent excuse to abandon gardening for family history research, which is proving ever more absorbing as I learn the techniques of finding and assessing the wealth of information available online. Knitting too is coming on apace, with the weekly knit & natter group enabling rapid progress on my latest pair of socks. 

I’ve also been busy reviving the almost forgotten art of knitting a new toe for the socks which DH’s iron toenails have worn into a hole. There’s too much work in a pair of hand-knitted socks to throw them into the bin at the first sign of weakness and it’s been fun giving a couple of pairs a new lease of life, even to matching the pattern of the self-patterning yarn. I knew it was worth keeping all those remnants of yarn from the many pairs of socks I’ve knitted over the past few years.

Now all I have to do is to spend more time on my shamefully neglected clarinet and my life will be in perfect balance again, which is more than can be said for Simon’s rather bedraggled cat.




Friday, April 17, 2015

Saturday, March 28, 2015

On the road again

It’s Saturday morning and I am typing this in an empty house, the only sounds the clicking of the keys and the wind lashing the rain against the window next to my desk. Yesterday afternoon I waved DH off on another of his regular visits to his very elderly mother and after clearing a few chores headed out into the garden.

Earlier in the week a good friend had presented us with a delayed house-warming gift, a bare-rooted rose bush which needs to be planted without delay. Unfortunately the perfect position was already occupied by a battered, unsightly and very spiny berberis, which it was my unwelcome task to remove. The struggle was fierce, but ultimately I prevailed and managed to complete digging the hole for my rose as twilight fell.

The berberis had its revenge, however, and I spent much of the rest of the evening with a sharp needle, extracting the numerous thorns which had made it through my strongest gardening gloves. This morning my poor hands look as though I have a very localised attack of measles, but at least I’m ready to sally forth into the garden as soon as the rain stops and the ground dries up a little, and bed the rose comfortably into its new home.

After that my busyness will take a different direction, as I get down to the preparations for our spring trip to the north coast of Scotland. DH will be home on Monday evening and by then I need to have everything ready for us to pack the car on Tuesday morning and begin our journey with our customary overnight visit to his brother in Southport.

I’m already looking forward eagerly to the long journey up through the Highlands. The road is familiar to us now and we drive it with huge pleasure, revelling in the grandeur of the scenery, whatever the weather, and keenly anticipating our arrival in our little home from home between the mountains and the sea. Easter in the Highlands has become part of our lives over the past few years and I can hardly wait.





Tuesday, November 18, 2014

A little light relief…

…and I mean that literally. After several days of leaden skies, which necessitated keeping the lights on all day if we wanted to do anything, it was a joy to wake this morning to a clearing sky and watch the sun drive away the last of the clouds. Fired by all this unaccustomed light, I headed out for a walk to the post office to post some cards and buy a few items and took my camera with me. It’s still remarkably mild for the second half of November, though I hope I’m not tempting fate by saying so, and the stroll up the hill to the post office and back was sheer pleasure. Unfortunately my camera battery ran out before I even reached the halfway point, so the final photos are of the glorious sunset we had on Saturday before the cloud took over.

The last rose of summer?

At least the birds will be well-fed this winter

A real Highland cottage

Ben Loyal with his nightcap on

Sunset reflections in the Kyle

Red sky at night...

Nor sure about the sailor, but it was my delight...