Visiting Friends

Dora (satellite navigation) was taking us the shortest route, and we were ready for her this time! On our last visit she took us through a housing estate and down a very narrow road where we had to get out and move the dustbins to get through. It seemed like we were heading for a corn field but at the last moment the track turned right and we rejoined the main road and all to save a yard! It can be quite exciting at times (my words not Pat’s).

This time we ignored her at that junction and carried on down to the traffic lights, boring but easier on the nerves.

We passed a stone circle at Cullerlie and just had to visit. As usual it’s well looked after, grass mown, area fenced off from the cattle and an avenue of Scots Pine leading to it.

Inside the stone circle there are 8 burials and each grave has been outlined in stone. We met 3 old ladies (sounds like the start to a limerick), sisters I think and they enjoyed visiting circles throughout the country. They grew up in Stonehaven and all learnt to swim in the outdoor unheated pool - it’s fascinating what you learn about people - it also brought back memories for me, standing in the queue at the pool and seeing the temperature sometimes as low as 54 degrees F - very refreshing but it made you learn to swim quick!

We swapped notes on circles, they gave us Scottish ones and we told them about our Derbyshire ones and everyone was happy.

We were now running late but arrived as Simon’s with our excuse water tight not that we needed one.

It was a glorious day so Lyn and I plastered on the sun cream and we, Pat, Lyn and I, sat and watched Simon work, how rotten can we be?

Midge, the Burmese cat, has found that he can bite through his line and so escape onto the busy road, so he now has a deluxe wooden pen to race around in, he also has a new fellow Burmese as a lodger. Twenty years ago, Shan (the new lodger) lived with Simon and his family but after a few weeks he disappeared. He had found that the farm up the road was more to his liking. The two brothers who owned the farm did eventually bring Shan back and Simon kept him indoors for a while but as soon as he got outside, Shan was off back to the farm. He had made his choice and that’s where he lived.

Now, 20 years later, the cat turned up in the original village and was recognised as Shan. Simon was contacted and Shan came to live with Midge. Shan was half starved and had lost his fur so he is now being fed regularly and if he gets half a chance he’ll steal Midge’s food, but he’s putting on weight and his fur is growing back. The two brothers had had to sell the farm and it’s not known whether they couldn’t take the cat to their new home or whether the cat didn’t want to go and as he sat on my lap kneading my legs with claws fully extended I wondered where he had been for the last few months to get to the point of starvation. He is now firmly ensconced in the summer house, eating regular meals and living a life of luxury.

I found 3 juggling clubs, not sure what the correct name is but those things jugglers in circus’s throw about with abandon. I couldn’t resist having a go. I find 3 ball juggling fairly easy but wow, these are something different. First of all you have to get them to loop in the air so that you can catch them again and then it’s very difficult to get them to come down near your hands. After a few minutes I could actually re-catch them one at a time. I practised with two and finally got all three in my hands. One, two, three and run as they all fell to earth around me like rocks pouring out of volcano. I needed a large lawn to practice on and quickly moved away from the cars! I think over the weekend I only ever managed to re-catch two before running!

Saturday was dull and overcast and we were all visiting the local Steam Rally at Fraser Castle in the afternoon. We met Lyn’s Mum and Dad and all had a smashing afternoon despite the rain. It was so bad that Pat actually bought an umbrella!!

The first thing I saw was an old threshing machine running from a traction engine using the massive canvas belts looped around the flywheel. One person was stood on top of a trailer load of sheaves, throwing them over to the threshing machine using an old pitchfork and another feeding them into the thresher. The corn was collected in paper sacks and the straw piled back into another trailer.

The description of the scene from people who could remember the engines visiting the farms in turn was accurate and fitted my imagination perfectly. Attached to another traction engine was a belt, driving a circular saw. Small tree trunks were being handfed to the saw and my first thoughts were of the safety rules of today. It was quite shocking to see a real hand moving ever closer to the jagged teeth that could take the whole arm. Then I noticed that his other hand was pressing down on a lever to engage the belt drive. It made it a smidgeon safer because once the belt is disengaged the saw stops, but the damage that could still happen is horrifying to think about.

Simon was getting some fantastic photo’s from a 44 feet long pole, kite flying was out of the question, and yes, I can see it coming, we’re going to have to get a pole.

There were 4 rows of lovingly restored and polished engines from all over the country, and standing beside the 7 feet high wheel makes me feel tiny. They really are magnificent beasts and when in full steam remind me of friendly, fire breathing dragons.

As we walked along the field the vintage tractors were taking their final bow and circuiting the arena to exit. As they neared the camera peering down from space some smiled, some looked away and others curiously looked around for the perpetrator.

We sheltered in the tea tent with a welcome cup of tea and suddenly there was such an assault on the ears I though war had broken out. It was the local Pipe band next door, the beer tent (it was too wet outside) and it was the drums that woke me up. We had to stand about 50 yards away in the rain to stop our ears ringing. It was super to be there and hear it and when the rest of our party came out Lyn’s Mum was fair bubbling.

Unfortunately I missed the dog and duck display, yes ducks! It was too wet for sheep. The dogs were herding the ducks around volunteer children, who were asked to stand on one leg so that the ducks could go under. Next rally I go to I shall certainly look for this event.

I had to have a trip down memory lane and listen to the fairground organs, not that I can remember them at the fairs but I’ve always liked to see them. We joined a lady and her grandson, about 4 years old, at the one still playing and despite the rain they jigged a little dance to the music, it was a smiley moment.

We all retired to Lyn’s Mum and Dad’s for tea, where I was given one of those brain teasers to look at. The answer to the clues were all Scottish lochs, you know the sort of thing, ‘This is a bonny one’ answer ‘Loch Lomond’. Now I’ll be searching the map for all the lochs and of course finding other places to visit.

Next morning it was still raining and the van was in danger of being cut off and oh yes Simon, I knew it, Pat wants a POLE!!!! This called for a trip into Aberdeen and the local Argos, we didn’t get far, as far as the front lawn actually where the back nearside wheel decided to dig into the soft waterlogged ground. A quick phone call brought the cavalry to the rescue to drag us out. That afternoon the boys played with pole and camera and despite the wet took some nice photo’s of the Lodge House.

A super weekend where we played percussion instruments, guitar, baby accordion, piano and Pat managed to get a tune out of a flutina that Simon was renovating. It’s probably as well that there are no close neighbours!

It was a lovely weekend and I put all the blame on you Simon for the new pole snugly stashed in the van. You do realise that now instead of there being no wind it will be too windy for either the kite or the pole but I’m looking forward to trying the pole on Skara Brae. Thanks to both you and Lyn for an absolutely super weekend. After 36 hours it stopped raining, and Monday found us back on the road North.

We spent a night on the sea front at Blondie Bay, it’s a quiet little pull off down a lane running along the foreshore. Just us, the birds and the wind, but at least it was dry again.

The wind got stronger and next day we went to the small village of Portsoy. It’s fascinating because there are no road markings or signposts so you can really feel that you’ve stepped back in time. The harbour no longer has fishing boats in it but it still makes a pretty picture. That weekend was to be the Scottish Traditional Boat show at Portsoy and the harbour had been surrounded with metal railings to prevent either people falling in or perhaps cars driving in!

The nest village was Portknockie and we sat and watched the waves crash over the harbour wall. The strength of the wind was worrying and we couldn’t help but wonder what the crossing to Orkney would be like. Meanwhile the waves continued to attack the harbour wall and the rocks. The spray was flying up to about 30 feet and the harbour walk was literally awash with water. Anyone foolish enough to walk that way would certainly be washed into the harbour itself.I love to see the sea in this state of agitation, and the frothing mass of water at the base of the cliffs swirling around the rocks is hypnotising.

All good things must come to an end and we moved on up the coast to Findochty, another small fishing village, well it used to be. The little harbour was charming and again there were no road markings or unsightly signposts.

It was getting late so we decided to have a quick visit to Findhorn, the home of the community. The Findhorn Community was started in 1962 by Peter and Eileen Caddy and Dorothy MacClean in old caravan. It was built on spirituality and an ecological cooperation with nature. It has grown over the years and is now a foundation, with houses and a college. It embraces all faiths and you can spend a week’s holiday studying there. Ecological living is still the heart of the community and the houses being built are as ecologically friendly as possible using up to date technology.

We found a pleasant spot for the night in the hills near Inverness and next day headed for Dunrobin Castle. I was studying the map and decided to take ‘him’ for an inland diversion. I’d found the ‘Falls of Shin’ which involved travelling the length of the Dornach Firth. The car park was excellent , the shop expensive and the Falls, well, disappointing is a nice word to use. It was actually more a white water canoe or raft river than falls. The path to the falls ended about 30 feet above them so you couldn’t even get a decent photograph.

Despite that the diversion was a pleasant one the road back to the coast was pretty although we‘d missed the Castle by a few miles. Another map reading ‘must see’ was a narrow lane leading to the sea entrance to Loch Fleet. A dead end road past a golf course, through woodland and into the dunes car park. The dunes were covered in Marram grass and wild flowers including the Marsh Orchid, whole hosts of them and a carpet of Heartsease Pansies. I took a load of pictures trying to get one good one.
We walked along the beach, and there were so many different colours in the pebbles it was amazing, pink granite, grey granite, slate grey pebbles, green, white, yellow, terracotta, black and mica embedded pebbles, two of which have found their way into the van.

The pebbles are actually embedded in the mud and being washed out over time so it was probably an old sea bed and I like the idea that it could have been a glacier that ran down to this part of the coast and dumped all the stones it had collected on it’s way and left them here for me to gloat over. Pat reckons I should join a pebble appreciation society.

Next morning I was attacked by a chocolate brown Labrador! It came galloping towards me with an apparent grin on it’s face, so I stood stock still and waited. On it came despite it’s owners frantic ‘come here’. I can never understand why they never put disobedient dogs on leads when other people are about. Of course it completely ignored her and continued it’s hurtle in my direction. I should have stepped to one side as it neared me, like a Matador, but foolishly I stood my ground. It swerved at the last minute but still managed to stamp on my left foot. Labradors are quite heavy and I wasn’t prepared for it jumping up from behind. To be fare to the dumb animal it wasn’t being nasty just over friendly but it caught the back of my thigh with it’s claw and at the time I didn’t think it had done any damage. ‘She’, the owner, apologised and said ‘he’s so naughty and always getting told off for jumping at people’, what did she think the dog was, a university student? Anyway I assured her I wasn’t hurt but later that day Pat noticed that my trousers had been ripped and on investigation I found a medium sized bruise to go with the large one that I’d made earlier! No wearing of shorts for me for a day or two.

We met a chap who had come across the Pentland Firth and he assured us it was like a millpond so we made a final, no change whatever decision and hurtled to Gills Bay to see if the boat was still as rusty!

It was a different boat and a bit less rust so we booked for the 2.30 p.m. sailing. We decided to visit Dunnet Head to kill the 2 hours wait, it’s the most Northerly point of our island. It was spectacular with waves crashing onto the cliff face. The cliffs are about 250 feet high and straight down into the North Atlantic. The lighthouse was built in 1831 and has a range or 23 miles. It was automated in 1989 and is now remotely controlled.

We went to have a look at the old world war 2 buildings still standing and found an old car parked in one of them. Why is it that other people find priceless vintage vehicles stood on blocks and covered in a dust sheet and all we find is a complete rust covered, worthless piece of junk! Well that’s what it looked like to us. The buildings housed a Radar and formed Coast Defence U-boat station number 6. Like those situated on Orkney and the Fair Isle it could track shipping and surface U-boats for a few miles and aircraft for 100 miles.

It looks such a foreboding place, this coast, wild and dangerous that I can never understand the Vikings wanting to settle here. I suppose they had come from a harsher land full of steep sided fjords and the climate might not have been so harsh a thousand years ago, so the Orkney Islands and Scottish mainland must have looked like paradise compared.

By lunchtime we were standing on the pier watching as our transport to the isles gently reversed into dock.