Ross-shire is a historic county in the Scottish Highlands. The
county borders Sutherland to the north and Inverness-shire to the south,
as well as having a complex border with Cromartyshire – a county
consisting of numerous enclaves or exclaves scattered throughout
Ross-shire's territory.
I went walking in Portmahomack (click on their site for some stunning pics) yesterday, with my friend Alisdair and found the coastline quite spectacular. We walked from the village to the lighthouse and back again, getting rained upon several times in the process. It was cold too - the Scottish winter is upon us. I was reminded of the quote by the well-known coast-to-coast walker Alfred Wainwright: 'there's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing'. Luckily, I remembered that quote before I left home!
There are many lighthouses around the coast of the British Isles . None of them are manned any more but they are still maintained and still guide mariners around our rocky shores. Those in England and Wales are run by an organisation called Trinity House, whilst those in Scotland, and, surprisingly, the Isle of Man, are looked after by the Northern Lighthouse Board, with Headquarters in Edinburgh.
Back in the village (of Portmahomack) we stumbled on an excellent cafe (Carnegie cafe) for lunch. A warming bowl of lentil soup and a haggis and cheese panini. They certainly hit the spot and revived us ready for the drive back to Golspie.
From L to R as you're looking at the photo: Des, Brian, Bob, Andy. Taken in Spring 1985 as we were all about to 'graduate' from the Defence School of Languages. Somebody played Boney M's Rasputin. How could we not dance?
Of the four of us in this picture, one died some days ago and another is sliding towards the exit door with an incurable disease. Who is going to be next Andy? You? or me? Life is like a flickering flame on a candle that can be blown out at any moment.
Bob is suffering from a disease that I've long since forgotten the name of but it has been described as a kind of Parkinson's + . He has had it for several years and I visited him, and his second wife, Larissa, in January 2018, in Krasnodar, in the South of Russia. It was a bit of a risk going back to Russia as the FSB (previously known as KGB) had tried to recruit (subvert) me when I was working in Moscow as a teacher of English and I was a tadge concerned they might try and grab me when I landed back on Russian soil. Thankfully I got away with it - only a tiny tiny pawn in 'the Great Game'. I was in touch with Larissa yesterday on WhatsApp to pass on the news of Brian's demise. Bob is, of course, getting worse but is still hanging in there with the tenacity I know of old.
Brian is the one who died, I'm not sure exactly when as the obituary says Monday 30th October and 30th October was not a Monday. Here is the obituary, which I found on a RAPC group page. What an incredible soldier, and officer. It was a great pleasure, and a privilege, to have known him. We studied Russian together, at Beaconsfield, and then worked at each end of the Berlin corridor, I was in Berlin and he was in Helmstedt. Rest in Peace Brian.
"It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you all of the recent passing of Capt. Brian Dent. BEM. who lived in Alicante, Spain. BRIAN DENT BEM - 1PWO.
Brian was born in Rotherham. He married his wife Margaret on the 2nd of April 1960. He was in the Territorial Army with the rank of Corporal when at the age of 26 he decided to join the regular army, joining 1PWO in Colchester in 1967. As a Married, mature, intelligent, and capable soldier he was rapidly promoted to the rank of Sergeant whilst serving with the Mortar Platoon in Cyprus. It was at this time that he was seconded to the Sultan of Oman’s armed forces as an 81mm mortar advisor and instructor in Muscat for a number of months.
When the battalion was posted to Northern Ireland in 1972 he was chosen to be one of four SNCO’S tasked with promoting ‘ Community relations’ between the two communities of Northern Ireland. Their work led to them being awarded the ‘Wilkinson Sword of peace’ and Brian the BEM. It was in the first weeks of this new role and whilst undergoing hand over takeover training from the outgoing unit that he was captured by the IRA in West Belfast. He was disarmed, taken hooded to a house to be questioned before being taken in the early hours to an alleyway to be shot 5 times. In typical Brian fashion he survived and there followed a lengthy spell at Headley Court Rehabilitation centre. He then returned to the battalion and full service. Despite those serious injuries he went on to complete the Senior Brecon course, and many others, resulting in his selection as a C/Sgt instructor on the staff of the RMA Sandhurst 1977/78.
Whilst in Bulford 1978/80 he became CSM D Company, which would prove to be his last appointment with the first battalion. Brian loved the challenge, so he began to look for alternatives for his career.
He then successfully applied for a two year long language course in Russian, which of course he successfully passed. This new skill allowed him to apply for the post of translator on the Berlin military train, a job that he loved. He was then promoted to WO1.He did not stop there!
He then successfully applied for a commission into the Royal Army Pay Corps and to become the Paymaster of the 1st Battalion the Black Watch.
He retired in the rank of Captain having served for a total of 33 years.
Following discharge Brian and his beloved wife Margaret moved to Spain where they have lived since 2002. Following a number of years fighting Alzheimers/Dementia sadly he passed away on Monday 30 October 2020. May he rest now in eternal peace."
For a video clip, I have selected Rachel Bostock playing Last Post on the violin.
Got to keep the heart and lungs and muscles going as long as possible so another walk yesterday. The last time I was in Brora I enjoyed a fried egg roll in Linda's cafe so that's where we headed yesterday. After walking for 2.5 hours I felt I had enough calories 'in credit' that I could manage another egg banjo without developing a guilty conscience. Very nice it was too.
A lovely walk with the North Sea on our right, or starboard, side all the way. A grassy, albeit muddy in places, path except where we met some grazing cattle when we decided that walking on the shingle on the sea shore would be the more prudent option. Scared of a couple of cows you may ask but in fact cows occasionally take umbrage at humans in 'their' field and have even been known to kill people. Some poor man lost his life a couple of months ago. A few pics, in no particular order.
Dunrobin castle, looking rather splendid
A few of the well-behaved cows
The sun reflecting off the sea
A flock of seagulls, taking time out from flying about all day.
Peat-enriched water flowing down from the hills.
Lovely autumnal colours on this fern in the garden.
And here is Inspector Clousseau come to check the fern!
I'm sitting in my club in London, eating my 475 calories Boots meal deal, and reflecting that less than a week ago I was walking in the hills in the far North of Scotland. What a contrast.
I love travelling. Why? Mostly because it often precipitates adventures and interesting experiences. Today was no exception.
I went for lunch with my sister to a pub called "The Barrow Boy & Banker" - a few minutes walk from London Bridge railway station. I think it was allowed under current Covid regulations as although London is currently Tier 2 (High) my sister and I both live in Tier 1 (Medium) areas. They let us in and we registered through the NHS Covid app. I had a voucher from Fullers' breweries for a free bottle of wine with two main meals. They couldn't seem to match it up with any of their other offers but knocked £19.80 off the bill anyway, for the price of the bottle of wine. A result. I like it when people understand the benefits of building good cutomer relations. It's highly likely we'll go back there again now, whereas if they had disallowed my voucher they wouldn't have seen us for dust.
I was being crafty (who me?) and made sure the wine had a screw top. Hazel doesn't drink alcohol, what a star, and I knew I wouldn't drink a whole bottle in one sitting so I drank 'half' and took the other half with me to drink here in my room.
The next interesting episode occurred when I went out for an evening 'meal'. I could have eaten in the dining room here but, frankly speaking, that's a 'special occasion' kind of meal. The kind you have to save up for. I went looking for the McDonalds that used to be at Marble Arch. There was no sign of it and rather than traipse halfway down Oxford Street looking for another one I went into Boots for a £3.99 meal deal (sandwiches, drink and chocolate bar). It almost turned into a £4.99 meal deal as the young Muslim girl tried to diddle me out of a £1. And there was me thinking they didn't do that kind of thing. Luckily for me, and not her, I'm still of an age when I can quickly check the change to make sure it's right.
I walked back along Park Lane, looking enviously in at the posh car showrooms and wondering when my Premium Bonds would come up. I'm sure it won't be long now.
Back to Ramsey tomorrow, after what I hope will be a superb Big Boy's breakfast in the dining room.
It is from there that we started, and finished, yesterday's walk up to, and around, Duchary hill. Or rather from the ford at the Western end of the village. A ford, if any of my readers don't know, is a shallow place in a river where cars can (sometimes) cross. There has been a lot of rain lately (when is there not?) and it would be prudent not to attempt to cross at the moment.
The ascent was enjoyable as there was a path to follow. Even so, waterproof boots would have been a distinct advantage. Coming down, through the bracken, was more of a challenge. It would have been so easy to twist an ankle and become a liability to my walking partner. The narrative for the walk suggested 6 miles and 3 hours. We did it in 2 hours 55 minutes - perhaps we were walking too fast! My fitbit watch told me at the end of the day that I had covered a little over 20,000 steps. Not too shabby. I hope that went some way to counter the biscuit and cake tin booby traps that always catch me as I pass the kitchen
I'm sitting on the Highland Chieftain train on my way back to England and if their on-board wifi is up to it I'll add a few pictures to the blog.
Not to be confused with 'the bridge over the river Kwai, a famous 1957 war film starring Sir Alec Guinness, a Kyle is a Scottish word meaning a narrow strait or channel. These pictures are of a footbridge over the Kyle of Sutherland where I went for a walk yesterday with my friend Alisdair.
We had intended following this route to, and around, Carbisdale castle, but, since some donkey (me!) had forgotten to take the route map we deviated 'a little' from the route. Lovely paths through the woods nevertheless.
Here I am at the entrance to Carbisdale castle. An interesting story to this castle, which is also known as 'castle spite' because of where it is located - just on the border of Ross and Cromarty but looking out across Sutherland. You can read about the story here. It was used as a youth hostel for many years but is now in private ownership.
We stopped for lunch at the Pier restaurant in a town called Lairg. I
chose a hot dog and the roll contained not only the ubiquitous sausage
but also some haggis and was topped with jalapenos, cheese and mustard.
And chips to boot. Must go back and have another one some day soon.
To finish, here is a trailer from Bridge over the river kwai - just in case there's anybody left in the world who hasn't seen it!
Three words that sound the same in English but have different meanings. Two of
them are homonyms (words that are spelled the same and sound the same but have
different meanings) and the third is a homophone (a word that has the same sound
but is spelled differently and has a different meaning). How did I get here,
dear? On our walk yesterday we came across the leg of a deer hanging from the
upright post of a fence. It's just the leg - our suspicion is that the deer got
trapped trying to get over the fence and, over time, the deer starved to death
and the rest of it, minus the leg, was eaten by some of the wild animals that
roam these hills. See if you can spot the leg in one of the pictures. Two walks
for the price of one in the blog today. On 3rd September Alisdair and I walked
around Loch Badanoch and had a very nice luncheon in the
Garvault Country House Hotel - the most remote hotel in mainland Britain -
washed down with a local beer from the Orkney Islands. Thankfully, it wasn't my
turn to drive so Alisdair got to watch me enjoying the beer! Yesterday we chose
a route closer to home, behind Golspie village and up in the hills.
Surprisingly, we shared the hill (Ben Bhraggie - 397 metres above sea level)
with a mountain biking competition. The hills were alive, to the sound of music
and the swish of bike wheels on the tracks.
Thursday 3rd September - 19,723
steps
Sunday 20th September = 17,877 steps
The 'stats' for both of these walks give the impression that we are 'dawdling'! Please be aware that walking cross country, in the hills, through the heather and the gorse and the bogs is not conducive to a fast speed. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
Minus 10 points to the new blogger.com interface and to the new face book interface, both of which are causing me grief and annoyancee! Why do these people automatically assume they know what we want? I suspect the majority of us were quite happy with what we had before.
Each day it looks more and more as though many European (and world) coutnries will be reimposing national lockdowns in the very near future in another attempt to bring the coronavirus under control. Again. Isn't it incredible the number of people, of all ages, who think that the rules, introduced for the benefit of the whole community, don't apply to them.
I'm out and about in the Highlands of Scotland. Many people have heard of gold rushes in Alaska and California. Not everybody knows that there was also a 'gold rush' in Scotland. It took place in the Strath of Kildonan in Sutherland in 1869. Click here for more information.
My friend Alisdair and I went walking there yesterday and, needless to say, we found no gold and came out as poor as we went in. Nevertheless, it was a very pleasant 9 mile walk. The weather, unusually, was kind to us and, as far as I know, there was no coronavirus lurking in the hills just good, Scottish, fresh air. On this map it looks flat, but let me assure you, it wasn't!
On the way to the walk we stopped at the coastal village of Helmsdale for a caffeine fix. Unfortunately, sleepy Helmsdale doesn't do mornings so the few coffee shops there were firmly closed. Never mind, we managed to get some cold starbucks coffee from the local Spar shop and got our fix that way. On the way back, after the walk, the village had finally woken up and we got some coffee in the Timespan cafeteria.
A few pictures from the walk, showing the glorious heather and, a new word for me, an ancient sheep fank.
The burn where they panned for gold
The sheep fank
Alisdair and I posing at the cairn atop Cnoc na Bèiste (350 metres). In the distance a mountain called Morven!
Sounds like a respectable cricket score but actually last Friday was Mother-in-law's ninetieth birthday. A tremendous achievement but a shame she doesn't have good health to go with it. The Chief, and only, carer has to push her everywhere in a wheelchair and be at her beck and call from dawn to dusk: "I'd like a cup of tea and a biscuit. No not those biscuits, those biscuits. And some cake.And.. And.." A demanding patient who is somewhat spoilt.
Back to the birthday party. Social distancing was enforced by having a garden party. Like the Queen but on a smaller scale. Tons of food and drink and I was eating leftovers for days afterwards. Talking about food, somebody, who shall remain nameless - but it wasn't me, ordered two identical cakes by mistake! Even Golspie had the benefit of the nationwide mini-heatwave during the day on Friday but in the evening our normal summer weather returned and the heavens opened. Billy Connolly, a famous Scottish comedian, suggests there are only two seasons in Scotland: June and winter.
There were nine (!) separate bunches of flowers delivered. The logical part of my brain (and for me that's the largest part!) felt that, taken together, an inordinate amount of money was spent on flowers.
I've been keeping myself entertained by going on walks with my pal, Alisdair. Yesterday we walked from Dornoch to a caravan park in Embo which goes by the somewhat pretentious name of "Grannies Highlan' Hame". Lots of holidaymakers about - I suspect mostly Scots on staycation.A few days previously we had joined the throng of people heading up to the folly at Fyrish. Tremendous views from the top. For the eagle-eyed amongst you, those are oil rigs on the Cromarty Firth awaiting their turn at the maintenance facility at Nigg. (I wonder how long before we can't say that word as it might be deemed racist!).
Tomorrow I'm heading South, and will spend much of the day travelling (by car, and train(s), and bus)
Two public service videos to finish - one serious and one funny. I've tried the serious one and it does seem to reduce the condensation on my glasses. Remember: if you wear glasses and a face mask you may be entitled to condensation!
