I've had a bit of a break from my Scottish blog to share a couple of family shoots, and so as not to bombard you with too many travel photos. Remember the old slideshows certain family members used to make you sit through?! Although I have had a couple of requests to do just this with my North Coast 500 series - maybe if there are refreshments this would make it more tempting?
So, to day 7, my last official day of the North Coast 500 route and day 8, my journey from Loch Ness down to the Bridge of Allan and then home. On day 7 I woke up early to a sunny Dornoch day and a wonderful breakfast at No 9 Guest House.
I hadn't actually planned too much for the day, and I have to say I set off with a heavy heart, knowing that this was the last day of the adventure. I drove slowly around Dornoch Firth and stopped for a few minutes at Bonar Bridge.
The traffic was busy, and I felt I'd hit a popular route, there were signs to various destinations of interest and roadside shopping stop offs. This A road felt a lifetime away from all the single tracks driving through mountains from just a few days ago. I hit the Cromarty Firth, peppered with oil rigs and signs of industry.
I wanted to get away from the main road and prolong my journey which was hurtling towards the end point of Inverness. I'd seen a few photos of Rogie Falls before I set off and decided to take a trip. It was the perfect spot to visit after a morning of not feeling quite myself. Tall trees and the crashing waterfalls carved deep into the rock.
There is a peninsula just above Inverness called The Black Isle. This is where I headed for next. I had circled Munlochy on my map as somewhere I wanted to visit. Here is The Clootie Well - a strange left over from an ancient pagan tradition. Folk would bring belongings to the well as an offering, sometimes in the shape of clothes or rags, in the hope that a family member's illness would be cured. The tradition has been updated as I spotted a Santa hat and a hi viz jacket. It was a strange, eerie place. The twigs cracked underfoot and echoed round the trees.
I drove a little further onto The Black Isle. At this point I was feeling just a little jaded, and knowing I hadn't booked anywhere to stay for the night, I was keen to try and find somewhere a little further south than Inverness. I drove to Avoch Bay and Chanonry Point first to see if I could spot any dolphins.
And then I turned to head south. I hit Inverness at 5pm on a Sunday eve. In the traffic, I turned to see drivers left and right, many coming back from weekend's away with family. Sleeping kids in the back with heads pressed to the window and streamline roof racks perched on top like tortoise shells. 'You are entering Inverness' the sign proclaimed. That was it, I'd finished. I wanted to feel something. For the first few moments I sat tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the radio, the traffic flow edging slowly towards a roundabout ahead. And then it hit me as I drove out of the town along the banks of Loch Ness. For this journey, I had pushed through my travel anxiety and although panic attacks had grumbled once or twice, I'd silenced them. Through the darkness of the beginning of the year, I'd pulled myself up and done something that for a long time had not seemed achievable. I felt something I hadn't felt for a while, I felt proud. I pulled over and just sat in the car for a few moments and took this photo. In the grand scheme of things, it's nothing special, but it'll always mean something to me.
I drove down to Fort Augustus on the southern tip of the loch and found a great place to stay. I had a beer and face-timed Suze, it was good to celebrate albeit over screens!
The next morning I had a quick walk to the tip of the loch before setting off.
As I still had a number of miles to travel before reaching home, I decided to break my journey up by staying with my cousins again in the Bridge of Allan. The journey there on a blue sky day was quite spectacular.
Travelling through The Cairngorms was beautiful.
After coming through the mountains, I stopped off for a lovely lunch with our friend Carol and her beautiful pooch Carter. They showed me some of the local sights.
And then onto a peaceful eve with my cousin and family. We sat round the dinner table over a glass of fizz, and chatted about the last few days. After a great night's sleep, I climbed into the car, packing my overnight bags up for the last time, for now, and tapped in the directions home into the Sat Nav. I felt excited to be returning home to Suzi.
A few hours later, I pulled up onto the cobbles on our street, shiny from a recent shower. When I walked into the lounge, Suze had left a treat for me on the table, a pecan pie, still warm. And propped up, one of our favourite pieces of art (by the wonderful Angela Smyth). It reads 'a suitcase built for adventure...' and written underneath 'the Thrills of the Unknown are Waiting for You.'
Thanks to everyone who followed my journey. It was great to get your messages when I was away, it felt like you came along too. If you'd like to read the series of blogs, here are the links to each day:
Me and Suzi are talking about the possibility of doing a longer trip together next year, we've just started doing some research. We'd love to hear where you've been, if you have any recommendations, or where you'd like to have an adventure!