North Coast 500 - Day 6 - Thrumster to Dornoch

I woke with the sun streaming through the window, and had my first cup of tea of the day as I watched the wildlife in the garden waking up. After a little potter in the grounds, I went downstairs for breakfast. Such a grand room to feast in! I was greeted with a steaming bowl of porridge sat on a hot plate. I learnt a little bit more about porridge that morning from Islay and Catherine. Proper porridge is made with pinhead oats, it's a very different texture to what I've had in the past. Back in the day, some folk used to let the porridge solidify, and when cold, you could slice it into pieces. It was then wrapped up in a cloth and taken as a packed lunch. Lunch can sometimes be referred to as a piece still  -'have you got your piece?'

I didn't have any definite plans for the day as I drove down the gravel drive of Thrumster House, the sun warming through the glass. As I drove along, with the Moray Firth to my left, I was drawn to the many harbours dotted along the coast. First Lybster and Latheronwheel, both deserted.

And then an encounter that I think will stay with me forever, a chance meeting at a stone circle. I saw a brown sign to The Hill O'Many Stanes with an illustration of a stone circle on it. Having not seen one on my travels, I was eager to investigate, and pulled off the main road onto the comfort of the single track. When I arrived, I think the initial feeling was one of disappointment. I was looking at a field full of very small standing stones. Just as I was considering getting back into the car, a woman appeared on the narrow path. She had cascading hair from a side bun and her piercing blue eyes caught the light. She wore a big smile and a colourful smock. She introduced herself - Yvonne from down the lane. She was really interested in my travels, and we talked about how different landscapes affect us. Then she looked at me straight in the eye and said 'keep going, keep travelling.'. She looked down for a minute and continued 'some people go to their graves with the music still inside them, and they've never let it out. Never be complacent, live it now'. As I was taking this in, she wished me well, said something about her cats roaming wild in the gorse, and bustled down the lane, her wispy hair blowing behind her. I just sat amongst the stones, her words ringing in my ears. I can still feel it now as I'm writing this.

I started to get glimpses of the snowy mountains in the distance. I found this comforting, I'd missed seeing them beside me, in front, or behind in the mirror. I'm so glad I turned off at Dunrobin Castle. Although the castle wasn't open to the public yet, the grounds were beautiful. The castle resembles a French chateau, it's the most northerly of Scotland's great houses. It was used as a naval hospital in the First World War.

I wandered down to the beach. I had this lovely stretch of sand to myself. It was good to feel it between my toes.

The receding tide sounded like a ripple of applause as the stones rolled down the sand. With the sun high above, and the oystercatchers and the tide as a soundtrack, I plumped my jumper up into a pillow and lay down in the sand for a snooze.

When I woke up, I realised I'd caught the sun. With reddening cheeks and forehead, I stepped back into the car. I took the scenic road to Dornoch and saw harbour seals basking on the sand bank. They looked like little smiles as they curled up at both ends.

I pulled into Dornoch and immediately felt welcome. It's a beautiful town boasting an ornate cathedral and a castle (now a hotel). Evelyn, my host at No 9 where I was staying, had chatted to me before about the time I would arrive, and when I stepped in, there were fresh home bakes and tea waiting for me.

I had a wander around the town and stopped in at the cathedral. That musty smell I love, the ornate stained glass windows and the most beautiful light streaming in.

After a gorgeous meal at the Castle Hotel, I turned in for the night and slept a good 10 hours which is very unusual for me. I knew the next day was the last of my road trip, and I wanted to make the most of it.

North Coast 500 - Day 5 - Armadale to Thrumster

Day 5 was what my Mum would call a 'good washing day'. I looked out of my bedroom window to see the trees bowing to the bluster. But before embracing the elements - breakfast. A poached egg on toast served on a shiny oyster pink plate. Followed by a slice of crusty bread with the best homemade raspberry jam I've ever tasted. Detta waved me off from the drive, her big smile beaming as her hair danced an unruly jig.

I drove into the grey. The road at the top of Scotland was a little wider to the ones I'd become accustomed to on the west coast. The mountains far behind, I drove through gentle land, soft, rolling and peaty brown. A quick petrol stop in Thurso and then onto Dunnet Head. At the very tip of this peninsula is Easter Head, the most northerly point of mainland UK. In my mind, I thought there would be coach loads of folk all jostling to take selfies for their 10 seconds of being the most northerly person. I stepped out of the car looking for a gaggle of other folk, but I was alone. For twenty minutes I walked around the tip of the headland, being the most northern person.

This sheep with a nonchalant chew was a little bit further north, but I didn't quite fancy heading onto that cliff edge in the wind.

For a few minutes, I watched the gulls coming into land, battling the elements trying to find their nests tucked into the cliff face. There were a few aborted attempts, their little pink legs looked quite comical flailing behind them.

And then onto John O'Groats for lunch. From the cafe window, I watched a little scene developing. It seemed that folk were just driving into the car park, walking the short way to the famous sign with all the directions on it, taking a selfie, dropping fixed smiles, doing zips back up, and getting into the car once again.

I had seen a few photos of these colourful buildings when I was researching my trip. The self catering holiday apartments were radiant against the grey.

The harbour was deep and quiet compared to the force of The Pentland Firth outside. After a quick mooch around the Christmas shop (full on tinsle and festive tunes), I drove to the Stacks of Duncansby. From here you can see to Orkney. As I walked on the path, I came across the Geo of Sclaites which is a deep cleft cut into the cliffs, a popular spot for the nesting gulls. 

And then the view of Thirle Door and the jagged points of the sea stacks. I imagined how many landscape photographers had camped out here waiting for the most perfect light to capture the shot.

My journey down the East coast had started. I had mixed feelings. I was so chuffed with myself I'd come this far, and I was excited to be heading home to Suzi, but there was also a pang of sadness too. I'd turned the corner, heading south, and I knew my journey was well over half way.

Further on I saw a sign to Pier Head. I took a trip down to a little village and looked out across Sinclair's Bay. A few folk had decided to pin out their washing on this blowy Caitness day. Ackergill Castle stands in the background. I liked the way the jeans danced, sometimes alone, sometimes together.

And then onto Noss Head, the road long and straight like the runway at the adjacent Wick airport. I had just driven through the wonderfully named Staxigoe and Papigoe.

At Noss Head, I stretched my legs and walked along the peaty moor to Castle Sinclair Girnigoe - such an impressive structure, seemingly rising from the ocean, with a dramatic drawbridge across a ravine.

After a walk to the castle, I jumped back in the car to drive to my Airbnb for the evening. Up a long gravel drive with spring flowers on each side, I reached Thrumster House. Good old fashioned hospitality ensued! A note was stuck to the door for me to beep my horn when I arrived as they were out in the grounds. Islay and Catherine told me about the house, how it used to belong to the Innes clan, and they showed me photos of the last family members who lived there.

Inside, the breathtaking staircase, and the large fire crackled, the flames leaping in the grate. I was greeted by a big bounding dog, Bertie, he liked to keep an eye on things.

I sat with my cup of tea and planned the next day - (a beautiful blue day, lighthouses, beaches, and a chance meeting in a stone circle). More soon! If you'd like to read my days so far, you can just click on the previous posts links - thanks for following my trip!

North Coast 500 - Day 4 - Talmine to Armadale

When I was planning my North Coast 500 trip, I decided to have one day where I didn't travel too far, just in case I needed a rest day and a bit of time out from driving. So on Day 4, I travelled just around the headland to Armadale.

But just going back a little to the end of day 3. My super lovely hosts at The Woodlifeway Guest Room, Steve and Lea, chatted to me about their journey up to Talmine from down south, and the crofting way of life. They love the nature they have on their doorstep, the deer, golden and white tailed eagles, the seals on the sand bank just across from the croft, and otters. But they were most excited when telling me about their regular sightings of the northern lights! They showed me photos they had taken from the bedroom window just a few nights before. I have been lucky enough to see the northern lights, it was a few years ago now when we took a trip to Finnish Lapland for my Mum's 60th. That and the starling murmuration are certainly up there as the most spectacular things I've ever seen. But there was an added excitement to think I might see this colourful dance in the sky here in the UK. I set my tripod up and we stood still, me holding my breath, it felt like a stake out. Although there was a bank of thick cloud in a crucial area, I saw the unmistakable green tinges. Luminous streaks in the sky, a painter's first brush stroke on a blank canvas.

After this excitement, I took myself to bed and slept so soundly. I woke up quite early, at 5.30am. I pulled back the curtains and was greeted with that beautiful early morning hue. With the sun yet to rise, the snow on the mountains was a dark cobalt blue studded with sharp black rocks, the small crescent moon hung in the pale blue sky.

Even though I had gone to bed quite late, I wanted to get out to watch the sunrise. I pulled on my boots and walked to the edge of the croft. A few birds had started their chorus.

I stood and watched the ever developing light. From behind a little stone building to my left, a bright orange glow grew in intensity.

And then the very tops of Ben Hope and Ben Loyal were crowned in a pale pink which inched its way down the mountainside.

They looked like a child's perfect drawing of a mountain, with the definitive snow line. And then, from the grass, a skylark flew vertically into that big sky, its song swirled around the croft.

I came back inside, just as Steve was lighting the fire, the room filled with the smell of wood smoke. I ate my breakfast with Steve and Lea, and we chatted over homemade bread, flapjacks and bread pudding. As the fire crackled, we talked about music, and croft life.

I was fascinated to hear that every croft has rights to their own particular patch of peat. Peat rights! Lea makes beautiful household goods out of wood. She told me all about the provenance of the wood she uses. I bought Dad a new coaster for his cocoa mug made out of sea buckthorn. They like to have music on in the house. All About Eve came on, and Steve told me about his goth loving past, we realised we share a penchant for The Sisters Of Mercy. Guitars are strung up on the white walls. Maybe when I go back, I'll have a sing with them, I know there will be a next time. 

I left the croft and drove away with their smiling faces in my wing mirror. I stopped a little bit further along the road, at the side of the Kyle of Tongue to see if I could spot an otter, but not this time. I had seen the seals basking on the sand bank opposite the croft before I left, a new world discovered by the retreating tide.

I just pootled slowly along the coastline. I stopped at Farr Beach, Bettyhill and sat on the warm sand for a while. I just listened to the healing sound of the waves and watched the rush of sea water as it edged along the beach, leaving ripples carved into the sand and little piles of seaweed dotted on the shore.

The afternoon was a little disjointed as I tried to find something to eat (not such an easy feat at the top of Scotland). I also noticed (with a heavy heart), that I was leaving the mountains behind. Being in the mountains and driving in that terrain had been exciting and exhilarating. Now the roads were relatively flat, the landscape transformed right in front of me. 

I passed the wildlife carefully.

My next Airbnb was Armadale House. I parked on the gravel drive and was met by my smiling host Detta, rosy cheeks and silver hair. We drank tea and ate biscuits in the kitchen and then she took me on a tour of the house that is undergoing renovation work. The beautiful shutters on the window, the grand staircase, a stag's head adorning one of the walls, and that big green front door.

I walked around the garden, a big pile of peat was drying in the fading sun.

Even though I hadn't done too much, I was tired and went to bed, my morning of waking up at the croft in Talmine still with me.