Some photos.

 In 2017 we explored Iceland for 3 weeks by car then the Scottish Isles (unfortunately missed out on Shetland), Scotland, particularly northern coast and the Highlands, through England down to Cornwall with a 3 day walk - Padstow to Fowey, during some of the hottest days on record.  Then we returned to Edinburgh via Wales, Yorkshire and Newcastle before leaving for home around 5th July.  In 2018 we plan 9 weeks between western and eastern Canada.  Join us again please.  August 15th 2018 We Are Here..............

Padstow, The Saints' Way walk and Fowey

This and the previous post come to you from, by far the best internet service we've experienced since Iceland - better in fact - and we are now relaxing in a lovely B&B just about 1 mile south of Harlech in west Wales (26th June). 

June 17 – We loaded our day packs with spare clothing, rain protection gear, water and snacks and headed off on our walk. We were met with hills straight away, even to get to the starting point for the Saint’s Way at the church of St Petroc in Padstow. The day consisted mainly of tramping across paddocks, uphill and down dale, and traversing country lanes, also used by speeding traffic. Much of the day was spent out in the open with blazing sunshine streaming out of a cloudless sky (being us, we wore our sun hats and were slathered in sunscreen) . We lost the track at one point after passing through the tiny township of Little Petherick, and had to tramp uphill along a very busy highway, with traffic whizzing past us at close range. We turned off at the next village and took another lane to get back to our pathway. We lost time through this event but were happy to be back on track. We suffered from the heat and towards the last part of the day diverted from the track to take an easier road down to our first night’s accommodation. This was in a B&B on a farm called Tregolls farm, near to a very old village called Withiel. It was a lovely old house and we had a very warm welcome along with a fabulous meal cooked by our host. It was a really comfortable place to spend the night after 18+ kilometres of walking.

St. Petroc's Church, Padstow and the official start to the Walk.

Leaving Padstow behind

First night's rest - Grateful to be in a luxurious farm stay B&B

 June 18 – Day two, and it was difficult to pull on the boots and leave our haven. We headed off again, and after five minutes encountered our first difficulty for the day trying to find the correct exit from a complicated paddock arrangement we were crossing. We had to retrace our steps, adding another kilometre or so to the walk. We passed through the tiny town of Withiel, had more trouble exiting the next group of paddocks, but managed to find our way out of trouble again. We had a little more shade than on day one, but not much, so were still fairly exhausted by the time we got to a town called Lanivet, and had to walk up a really long and relentless hill to our next highway crossing. We continued on to Helman’s Tor, a hill topped with granite rocks, and a high point of the walk. Irene rested half way up while Howard climbed to the top for the view. It was then a long walk on fairly level (thankfully) ground to our next overnight stop at Lanlivery, where we stayed in a twelfth century “longhouse” building converted into a hotel – low ceilings and doorways with ancient timbers still in place. We had another really filling meal and a bit of relaxing after a long day of around 18 or 19 kilometres.

Rolling Hills (though pretty tough while walking over them), and another ancient cemetery on the way.

 

 

 Helman Tor was the highest point in the walk, by this time we were over the heat and wanting only downhill, which we got.

One of the Crown Inn's out buildings (not quite as old as the Inn) and now accommodation.  Our room on the right.

One room of the restored Inn

 

June 19 – The final day of our walk dawned – another hot one, but slightly shorter at only 12 kilometres. Also a lot more shade was promised for today. The path dropped down into the Milltown area, then climbed steadily for a couple of miles via a fairly narrow lane. At one stage when we were with a group of three other walkers, three large trucks passed us in succession. We had to really push ourselves into the hedgerows, and fortunately the trucks drivers slowed down so as not to frighten us too much. After a short break for lunch, we headed off on a long descent to a good size town called Golant on the banks of the River Fowey. We whiffed the scent of home! We passed a riverside pub, and being exhausted with the heat, were compelled to find a seat there and order a cold lemon lime and bitters. It was divine. We then had only one major hill to climb, luckily in shade, as it was the steepest of them all. From then on it was a mile or so long descent into Fowey down another shady lane. During the final walk in through the outskirts, we were not impressed at all with the town, although everyone we had spoken to had told us that we would really love the place. However, after we reached our accommodation, in yet another ancient building, and had an ice cream and a short walk around the town, the place grew on us. The township of Fowey surrounds a very pretty harbour, with its houses and hotels covering every inch of the steep, surrounding hillside. It is another English seaside town leading the competition for steep, narrow and winding streets. We were so pleased to have completed the walk, in all around 50m kilometres including extra distance covered correcting our mistakes. It would have been a really pleasant experience in cooler weather. Also there had been a lot more road walking than we are accustomed to. Anyway, we had done it and were in a fitting place to finish it.

 Jun 20 – We awoke to the sound of gulls, and decided to do an early morning walk through the town while it was still quiet. We climbed quite high to get a good view over the harbour and the town of Polruan, just across the bay. Breakfast was the normal grandiose full English thing. This actually had been suiting us, as we then had enough fuel to last until mid-afternoon, when more food would be needed. We had previously planned to do a three hour local walk in the area before returning to Padstow. However, after the rigours of the previous three days, we decided to cancel today’s walk and instead took a five minute ferry trip over to Polruan to have a wander around that little town, another interesting place. All of the UK is so steeped in history that it is hard to avoid it wherever you go. We ferried back, collected our gear, and met up with the taxi driver who was to take us back to Padstow. We arrived back, settled in to the Golden Lion again, and took a long beach walk to fill in the afternoon. Irene even had a short swim and revelled in it. On the way back to the hotel, we passed another interesting way to build stone walls. Instead of using blocks of stone, they use pieces of slate placed vertically in one row, then horizontally, and sometimes capping it off with a row of tiles angled at around sixty degrees. Howard was intrigued by this method.  We finished the day preparing for our foray into Wales on the following day. This was to be the day for heading north and the start of our homeward journey to Edinburgh.

From Glasgow to Cornwall

June 12 – We had the day to spend in Glasgow, and decided on brotherly advice to visit the Riverside Maritime Museum. It was a 40 minute walk with a freezing wind blasting us and occasional bursts of light rain. The Museum was excellent, but as usual was a complete overload of information. The exhibits covered mainly various types of transport over the years, including cars, buses, motor cycles, steam trains, ships and boats of all sorts, and a variety of other exhibits. We spent a couple of hours there, then walked back via a Sainsbury’s supermarket to catch up on shopping for the next three or four days. It is a little more expensive than other supermarkets, but the quality is good and we like their shops. The end of the day was spent resting up and preparing for next day’s travel.

June 13 – Our next major event has been planned as a three day coast to coast walk in Cornwall, but we have broken the travel from Glasgow to Padstow into three days. The first of these, Glasgow to Wigan is today’s target. The drive down has been mainly on the M6, three lanes and few speed restrictions, other than occasional roadworks. The countryside has consisted of green rolling hills and plains, a change from some of the more jagged mountain ranges in the north and the islands. We had to go a little past Wigan to an Ibis Hotel in an industrial estate, but it was comfortable and with very friendly and helpful staff.

June 14 – Today we continued on through to a southern town called Wells, in West Somerset, and then on a little further to a tiny settlement called North Wooton. Here we had a really nice place to stay called Crossways. A major benefit for us is that it is only six miles from the Glastonbury Tor, a place we had wanted to visit out of curiosity. Most of the way was easy going on the M6 and M5, but for the last section of the journey, from Bristol to North Wooton, our GPS took us on a torturous path through what appeared to be the centre of Bristol, then followed around thirty miles of suburbia and narrow, winding country lanes. The country lanes are very attractive, but the driving is slow and a little stressful at times. Luckily we didn’t meet any trucks or buses. As we arrived at our hotel around mid-afternoon, we decided to leave our Glastonbury visit until tomorrow morning. As a reward for the driving experience, we settled for a nice restaurant meal instead of preparing our own food in our room.

A bit squeezy in Glastonbury

 

 

View of Glastonbury from the Tor

History of the Tor Abby

 June 15 – The final day of our southern sojourn arrived and we headed for Padstow in Cornwall. We couldn’t help but drive through Glastonbury to pay a visit to the famous Glastonbury Tor. This meant that we were then obliged to climb up to the tower on top of the tor.  It was not a difficult climb and gave us a great view over the surrounding countryside, soon to be filled with thousands of people (more than 130 thousand) attending the annual Glastonbury Music Festival. We continued on our way, with the rest of the journey starting off well on the fast flowing M5, but halfway through we had to divert onto a lesser road. This was good for a while, but the closer we got to Padstow, the narrower the roads became, sometimes reverting to single lane sections. As always, the scenery was really relaxing, except for sections where the hedgerows had grown so high that we couldn’t see anything past the edge of the road and a wall of greenery. Padstow eventually loomed into view and we made the mistake of trying to drive into the town to find our hotel. It is a typical English coastal town, steep drive in, narrow streets, overcrowded with tourists and vehicles. We had to beat a hasty retreat to a car park on the outskirts and then walk down into the hotel to check in, and also to meet up with a friend, Alex Melbourne. We then did a car to hotel gear shuffle and arranged to take the car to a long-stay car park in a paddock on a farm, where we could leave it while we did our three day walk a day later. We had dinner with Alex and arranged to meet the following morning for a day of wandering around Padstow and surrounds.

June 16 – A bright, sunny day dawned, and after a slow start we took off on a long walk out of town to an adjacent beach where Irene could have a paddle and Howard could search for interesting pieces of slate to add to his rock collection. On our return from the beach, we did a thorough investigation of the rest of Padstow before sending Alex on is way so that we could concentrate on preparing for the next three days. It was starting to look like being a very hot walk, with temperatures rising into the high twenties and cloudless skies.

More stories from our Journey

June 7 – The ferry trip to Mull is only one hour, from one pretty harbour to another on Mull, with the ferry arriving at the southern end of the island. We were dismayed to find that our accommodation in the north of the island was as far away as possible from places we wished to visit. This was unavoidable as there are only three towns on the island and the capital Tobermory is largest and furthest away, but also the cheapest because of that. It was a planning lesson for us although we like it up here and the hotel staff are really pleasant – though the Wi-Fi, once again is pitiful. Another inconvenience is that a short cut road to the far west of the island has been closed for repairs, necessitating a much longer journey to get to where we wanted to be. We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with paperwork, other planning, and doing whatever computer work we could.

June 8 – We were up early for a 90 minute trip out to Fionnphort, a harbour at the far western end of the island, and the point for catching a ferry to the island of Iona. Although long, the drive was really pleasant, mainly through green rolling hills and pasture land. The ferry ride across to Iona is only 10 minutes, and part of a long term plan of ours to get another boat out to Staffa Island, a further 45 minutes away. After landing on Iona, we filled in time taking a long walk across the island to a beach on the far side. To our delight, the beach was covered in a vast array of beautifully coloured rocks, all smoothed by aeons of water erosion. The whole scene was very restful, as the beach was backed by pasture land dotted with a scattering of sheep and foraging birds. We had lunch there before the walk back to the harbour for our boat to Staffa. We had originally planned to do a three hour walk to the south of the island to visit another bay of geological significance, but had been warned that the track was quite boggy in parts, and we had had enough of that in northwest Scotland. We did a short walk up past the famous Iona abbey and also visited the ruins of a nunnery that had been built around 1300, well preserved apart from the absence of the roof. Early afternoon arrived and we set off in a small boat with around twenty or so others for Staffa. Staffa is a small island completely composed of basalt columns, and is the site of the famous Fingal’s Cave, the inspiration for Mendelssohn’s Hebrides Overture. The weather was good and we were able to get off the boat and spend an hour on the island. We first walked out to a Puffin sighting area, but most of the birds were sitting out on the water, as this is apparently the safest place for them to be during the day – if attacked by predatory birds, they can easily duck under the surface of the water. We were then able to walk around to the cave mouth, hopping along over the tops of some of the columns. In structure, the island is identical to the Giant’s Causeway in the north of Ireland. It was really exciting for us to be climbing over the basalt columns we had admired from afar for so long. We were fortunate to have excellent weather (no rain) the whole day, especially considering that it is a place renowned for abysmal weather. We took the long drive back to Tobermory, happy with having had such a great day, and shouted ourselves to a fine dinner in the hotel restaurant (Many of the main roads on the islands are ‘single track’, meaning one lane only, with short laybys for oncoming traffic avoidance. These can be a little stressful especially on sections of steep hills and with tight corners, as this often is where you can meet oncoming cars and as we have noticed, locals who know their roads aren’t at all intimidated by the narrow roads).

June 9 – We decided to have a relatively easy day, with a drive around the accessible parts of the north of the island. We drove up to Calgary Bay, the place after which Calgary in Canada was named. It was a rare beach for Scotland, in that it was backed by sand dunes which had been encouraged by a local community group.  The bay was a wide sweeping affair with hard, white sand and the usual shallow water, enabling us to take off our shoes and do some gentle paddling. It is a very attractive place and it was a great spot for lunch. We were also able to visit a nearby sculpture park established on a farming property, with pathways meandering through the woods and hillsides. We continued on, making our final stop at the Mausoleum built for Lachlan Macquarie, the former Governor of New South Wales. It is situated in a small field on private property, but is owned by the National Trust of Australia, and is managed by the National Trust of Scotland. Macquarie was born on the Island of Ulva, which is adjacent to Mull. It is in a very peaceful setting, and included a plaque describing him as “the Father of Australia”. It had been good to have a fairly relaxing day with not too much on the schedule. On arriving back at the hotel, we walked down to the waterfront to visit the Tobermory Distillery. Once inside the shop section, we were persuaded to sample two sorts of whisky, unpeated and peated. Irene wasn’t keen on either sample. However, Howard, who had never liked whisky, was attracted to the flavour of the peated version and suffered a conversion of sorts. Without him knowing, Irene quietly purchased a bottle for him for his birthday, along with a few tiny bottles of each sort, for souvenirs.

June 10 – Today we decided to have a really easy day, slowly re-packing our gear and contemplating the rain outside. We took a walk from the hotel down to the township harbour. Our main task was to visit the post office to weigh some travel books and paperwork that we wanted to send home by mail. The price was much less than we had expected, so happiness prevailed. We wandered along the waterfront, visited the Mull Museum for a touch of information overload, and headed back to the hotel with a couple of small booklets on the geology and shaping of Mull. It seemed like a day during which we had achieved little, however we had had a relaxing time, compared to days where we were on the go all day.

June 11 – The target for today was to travel from Tobermory to Glasgow. We did our last trip from Tobermory to the harbour at Craignure to line up for the ferry back to Oban. The drive gave us our last views of the wonderful Mull scenery, and we settled into the ferry journey on a relatively flat sea. Oban is not a place that where we wanted to spend any more time, so we headed off on the A85 for Glasgow. The GPS was a real benefit until the very last couple of streets in the west end of Glasgow. Our hotel had no vehicular access, and was approached by a confusing array of lanes. After a minor confrontation with a large rubbish collecting truck backing down one of the lanes, we finally managed to find a tiny car park behind our hotel, and luckily there was one space left for us. The area we were in seemed a little bit rough, but the hotel was quite nice inside and we had a comfortable first floor room with a view out onto a busy street with a tree-lined border. We quickly unpacked our gear and then took off to walk into the city to the Marriott Hotel, where Howard’s brother Eric and sister in law Gillian were staying for the night before taking off on a small cruise ship journey north. The weather was terrible, but the rain held off until towards the end. The wind was ferocious, and we were really pleased to arrive and enter the warmth of the Marriott. We had a great reunion, and chatted into the night over a couple of drinks and a snack dinner. The walk home was slightly less uncomfortable as the wind had dropped significantly, and we got home dry after a forty minute walk. We decided that Glasgow looked as dull and gritty as Edinburgh, and was a city we probably didn’t need visit again.

Catching Up

This part of the diary is without photos as they have proven difficult and time consuming to upload.  I will do my best to catch them up

May 21 – Our first reaction to the city on our way in on the tram was that the whole place was a drab, often dirty grey. There are many beautiful sandstone buildings that seem never to have been cleaned. On arrival in the city centre, we were hit with tourist mania, and this is before summer season had really started. The main tourist street is the Royal Mile, with Edinburgh Castle at the top, then moving on downhill through dozens of shops and café/restaurants, with intriguing alleys and laneways branching off on either side. All these were ancient passageways from centuries ago. We left the castle for later, and headed to the end of the street, then turning for Holyrood Hill with Arthur’s Seat at the top. This is a hill climb we wanted to do. We’d walked around the Scottish Parliament House and followed a path up, being taken by many people.  It wasn’t until we had reached a fair height and then reached a descent, that we discovered a separate, steeper, hill which was the real Arthur’s Seat.  We started off enthusiastically climbing the stone steps, but after a few hundred of these we came to a mid-point, and then started to climb higher. About two thirds of the way up, we saw that there were still a few hundred steps to go. Neither of us was that keen to reach the top – the steps were very irregular, it was very windy and eventually would have to be negotiated back down. Also the pedestrian traffic climbing up was increasing in volume, so we opted to start back down, and at the halfway point detoured onto another pathway around the hill to get to the bottom. It was exhilarating to a point, and we had wonderful views over the city. The views confirmed our belief that there is almost no colour in the buildings in Edinburgh. From the bottom of Holyrood we set off through the streets to climb a lesser challenge – a hill called Calton Hill. This was more easily accessed by suburban roads, and after a steady climb, we reached the top of the hill. There is a scattering of historical buildings on the top, but by this stage the weather was deteriorating, so we didn’t stay up there long. We found a restaurant called, of all things, Howies, so went in for a lunch special. The place was full to the brim, a little noisy, but the food was good and it was a welcome break from the weather. After lunch, we returned to the Royal Mile, walked up to the Castle, but didn’t go past the point where you had to pay. We may do this when we return to Edinburgh at the end of our journey. Foot weary, we slowly made our way back to our tram station and returned to our lodgings. It had been a good day.

May 22 – Time to move on. We bid Edinburgh farewell and headed north for Inverness, further up the coast. We passed through very pleasant scenery, lots of green pasture land and hillsides covered in bright yellow gorse in full flower. The further north we travelled, the higher the hills became – not rugged hills but with rounded slopes and tops from earlier glacial action. The upper slopes are devoid of the brilliant gorse, instead covered with low-growing grey heather. As we approached Inverness, we rounded the edge of the Cairngorms, the highest landmass in Britain and also a large National Park. Inverness is a large town through which the River Ness passes. We found our guesthouse, a terrace situated on a narrow road which was used as a speedway by all the male drivers passing through. After a walk to the town centre for some shopping, we ended up at a nearby Aldi store for a few supplies, then headed home for the night. We were in our favourite type of accommodation, a self-catering place, making this part of the trip much less expensive. We were saddened today to hear of the terrorist-linked explosion in Manchester, in which 22 people lost their lives and over 100 were injured.

May 23 – In reasonable weather, we set out for our major target for the day – a drive down the eastern side of Loch Ness to Fort William and nearby Ben Nevis, at 1344 metres being the highest mountain in the British Isles. It can be climbed in a day, but weather near and at the top can change violently in minutes, and we had no intention of going any further than around a quarter of the way up. Over the years, a significant number of inadequately kitted out climbers have died attempting to complete the climb in poor weather. It was a very pleasant climb as far as we went, on a pathway studded with really attractive local pink sandstone rocks. We reached a point that we had been told about, and were able to veer off and climb back down a lengthy stone staircase to river level, returning us to the visitor’s centre alongside the river. The drive back to Inverness along the Loch was as enchanting as the drive down, and we were very satisfied with our day’s efforts.

May 24 – a day of great excitement had arrived. We have been dreaming of the Orkneys off the north coast of Scotland for years, and today was to be the day we travelled there. We travelled north along a road that hugged the east coast, and in the late morning arrived at John O Groats, not quite the most northerly point, but very close to it. It was a most uninspiring place, and we were able to continue walking for a short distance to Duncansby Head, a bit closer to the most northerly point. After a short walk along the cliff top, and a chance for Howard to clamber down to the beach and inspect lovely beach stones (a lifelong passion), we drove on a further 3 kms to Gill’s Bay, from where we caught the car ferry over to the Orkney mainland. It is a one hour journey, and we finally arrived at the place of our dreams for the last few years. After a short drive to a very small village called Burray, we found our guesthouse, situated on a hill with a beautiful view out over a bay and farmhouses dotted around the hillsides sloping down to the water’s edge. It was the best cottage we have had in a long while, fully self-contained and fully furnished right down to a washing machine. It was brilliant, and we have four nights here. After unpacking the car, we drove in to the largest town, Kirkwall, for the visitors centre and information. There were three causeways to cross on the way, and we discovered that these were constructed on the orders of Churchill during the war to block any passageways through the waters that could be used by German U-boats. Then it was back to Burray, and we relaxed into our home and prepared for a full day tomorrow.

May 25 – We awoke to a day of sunshine, which was a good thing as we had a lot to fit in. The Orkney Islands have just about the most prolific number of Neolithic archaeological sites in the world, and they are dotted all over the Islands. There is the Orkney Mainland and between 12 and 15 smaller islands surrounding it. We headed off through Kirkwall and travelled west, firstly to the Maes Howe visitor’s centre. Maes Howe is a burial chamber, constructed around 5000 years ago from enormous sandstone blocks, and buried under a huge earth mound, now grassed over and with sheep grazing on and over it. The entrance is guarded by a fence and gate. Our guide asked the last person in to shut the gate as the sheep hadn’t bought tickets! Access to the chamber is through a ten metre long tunnel, only one metre high, and lined with slabs of stone. It was built during Neolithic times, but was also visited by Viking raiders in the 12^th century. They carved runic graffiti into walls, which are still quite readable if you can read Runic. We had a very entertaining guide who translated some of the carvings for us. Next on the list were two groups of standing stones, the first being the Standing Stones of Stenness, built around 3300 years ago. There are only four left, but they are massive in size, the largest being nearly six metres tall. Further along is the second group, the Ring of Brodgar, consists of 21 large stones, all that remains of what was a larger circle. The stones are not as massive as Stonehenge, but still present an impressive spectacle, and raise the usual questions concerning how they got there and what was their significance. Next came the remains of a settlement called Skara Brae, situated on the shores of a wide sandy bay, and pre-dating Stonehenge and the Pyramids of Giza. The settlement was uncovered in the late 19^th century during a violent storm, which blew away a sandhill, thus exposing the stone ruins of buildings and stone furniture. We headed north for our last visit of the day, the Brough of Birsay, the site of extensive Norse ruins on a windswept Island just off the mainland, and joined by a causeway that gets covered over at low tide. We had been given the tide times and were able to get there during the lowest point. There is a notice suggesting that anyone stranded on the island by rising tides should ring the Coastguard. They had the good sense to provide the phone number.  We drove home around the coast after a long day of absorbing ancient history.

May 26 – Another sunny day arrived – why didn’t we get this weather in Iceland? Now for today’s plan. Most people have heard of a rock stack called The Old Man of Hoy. It is just off the northwest coast of an island called Hoy, which itself is adjacent to the Orkney Mainland. We took a 30 minute car ferry trip over to Hoy, a very hilly and mostly unpopulated island, and drove from the terminal out to the remains of a coastal settlement called Rackwick. It has now only a few farmhouses and a small partly overgrown caravan park. The hike out to the rock is three and a half miles, nearly six kms, with a long uphill haul through peat moorland before a flat section along a cliff top. We then descended to a plateau, at the end of which was the rock stack. The walk was not difficult, but the pathway was very rocky and this made the walking quite challenging. The stack is around 150 metres tall, only a few hundred years old and is composed of multiple layers of sandstone, severely eroded over the centuries by lashing wind, rain and waves. From the cliff top it is a really impressive sight, and the surrounding rugged cliffs make for a very dramatic setting. We headed back to the car and drove to the other side of the island, stopping along the way to check out a feature called the Dwarfie Stone, a small burial chamber cut out of a huge sandstone block. It is the only rock-cut tomb in Britain, and again is around 5500 years old. All other burial sites are constructed with stone blocks. We continued on our way, found about the only coffee shop on the island, had a beach walk – Irene to paddle in the water, Howard to wander amongst the interesting array of coloured pebbles and stones along the beach. A little weary from our long walk, we drove back to the ferry terminal and returned to our little haven on the mainland.

May 27 – Our last full day on Orkney, and believe it or not, another sunny day. Apparently this is a record for Orkney at this time of year. The locals were joking that they were a little upset that they couldn’t provide us with the normal bleak and wet Orkney weather. We headed out up the east coast to find another Neolithic site called the Broch of Guerness. It is an outstanding site where there is a very large central stone tower structure, about 20 metres across at the base, with large flat stones projecting from the walls just above head height, indicating that there once was a first floor. There are also the remains of a steep staircase, further confirming the view that there was another storey. The tower was surrounded by the remains of other stone buildings that would have formed part of the settlement. It was a different type of settlement altogether from Skara Brae. The tower is assumed to be part of the process of creating a community centre, and may also have been a status symbol of the wealth of that community. Although sunny, there was the usual bitterly cold wind, so we moved on, drove around the top of the mountain and found a nature reserve at a place called Marwick Head. However, the path to the reserve headed off up a quite steep hillside, and after our exertions on Hoy, we couldn’t face another uphill trek, so opted for lunch in the car instead. Lunch in the car is usually a challenge, but this day we brought out the beetroot jar, and this proved to be particularly challenging, as beetroot slices usually are. We continued on to our last call for the day, managing to become temporarily geographically displaced along the way. This is quite easily done on UK country back roads. We eventually found our way to our target, a tiny place called Yesnaby, where there are reputed to be marvellous rock stacks and really contorted geology. This description was completely accurate.  It was an incredibly rugged section of coastline, with a rock stack that had a significantly sized tunnel through its base, begging the question “How does it manage to remain vertical?”. With the consistently pounding seas and severe weather it will eventually collapse into the sea, as have some of the Apostles along the South Australian coast. We managed a cliff top walk to take in the whole site, and then headed for the car and home, and a respite from the wind.

May 28 – We were allowed a fairly leisurely pack up and departure, as our ferry check in wasn’t until 11.20. It was such a windy day that we didn’t bother to stand up on the deck for the views, but stayed in the relative cosiness of the passenger lounge. It’s only a one hour journey, so we sere soon off the boat and heading across the top of Scotland. We had a quick look at the coastal view from Dunnett Head, the most northerly point in the UK, and then drove on towards our destination for the night, a B & B called Armadale House, along the way passing the now retired nuclear power station at Dounreay. Armadale House is on the edge of a very small village, not surprisingly called Armadale. The house is a heritage listed building, owned by a delightful and very friendly Dutch woman called Dettie, who bought it ten years ago. Dettie told us of a walk we could do down to the beach, as the village is situated just above a bay. The walk was really interesting, a typical English country ramble, through paddocks, along leafy sections of pathways, and through the usual slightly boggy patch. The beach was flat hard sand, but edged with the most interesting and colourful rocks and boulders, a signature of the geology of this region. There is a lot of pink and grey granite and sandstone, which we find to be particularly attractive. The rocks were all too heavy for Howard to attempt to take any home (fortunately). We returned to the house for an evening snack and retired for the night.

May 29  - We breakfasted with a couple of young German women who were staying there. As we didn’t have to rush off, we sat around the table chatting. Our host Dettie joined us, and during a lively conversation told us that Dounreay was planned as an experimental fast breeder nuclear power station, and never produced any useable power. There was little local opposition as they employed many locals, including whole families. The de-commissioning process is continually being extended, and the place is known locally as “the holiday camp”. We talked until ten o’clock, when it was time to get moving. We continued west along the top of Scotland towards a town called Durness. As we drove along, the countryside changed from rolling hills to more rugged mountainous ranges, and there was an abundance of rhododendrons along the way. The attraction at Durness is a limestone cave called the Smoo Cave, the name deriving from an ancient Norse word for cave. The cave entrance is down a flight of steps, and is quite large at the mouth, with a waterfall plummeting down from the roof, but soon becoming a fairly narrow and low ceilinged passageway through which a shallow river flows. We contracted a young guide called Fraser to take us in a rubber dinghy through into the tighter section of the cave. Although not a large cave, it was quite an interesting experience, as the mouth of the cave has been formed by sea water action, whereas the inner portion has resulted from river action. Fraser and an older fellow (Colin) are between them financing their own dig into another part of the cave, as they believe there will be another cave beyond the passageway with evidence of Neolithic habitation. They are slowly digging their way along a fault line when they are not busy with guiding duties. We gave them a small donation towards their work, and then headed inland for our next destination, a town called Lairg. The Northern Scotland mountain scenery is really spectacular, and we drove through a variety of different types of rocky country. After driving 18 miles along a lake called Loch Shin, we arrived at our home for the night, a “pod” on a farm advertising their accommodation as the Loch Shin Luxury Pods. The pods are like miniature Nissan Huts, very small, but comfortable, with a tiny bathroom and kitchenette equipment. There was almost nowhere to put anything, but we were here for three nights, so we did the best we could. The pods are situated on a working sheep farm, and we were serenaded by distant sheep until we fell asleep.

May 30 – After so much travelling, we had an easy morning, before heading out after lunch to explore Lairg (it wasn’t the most pleasant of days). It is an interesting little village, as usual steeped in history. It has only recently been announced that after years of research, geologists have confirmed that the area was once the site of a huge asteroid impact around 100 million years ago. This has contributed to the fascinating geology that we observed on our way down to Lairg the day before. There is a striking array of different types of rock, that over the ages have been pushed around, uplifted, and generally mistreated by unimaginably huge geological forces. We drove a little way out of town to visit the Loch shin falls, not very high, but with a very forceful water flow. It was here that we saw our first salmon attempting to jump the falls to return to their breeding grounds. We only saw three or four, and none of them quite made it to the top. Sadly, the salmon are diminishing in size and number compared to previous years. This is due to a number of factors, mainly the effect of climate change, ocean degradation, and over fishing by large factory ships. There was a nice forest walk available, but it started to rain, so we took the option of returning to our little pod for an early night.

May 31- The weather for the day looked promising, so we set out on a round trip through part of what is known as the North West Highlands Geopark, most of the area west of an imaginary line drawn from Durness in the north down to Lairg in the centre. It is a UNESCO promoted area of unusual natural interest backed by strong community support. We drove as far north as Scourie on the coast, where we did an exhilarating walk out to the Scourie headland, having a laugh at the local lamb population as we passed through a widely scattered flock. Some of the young lambs eyed us nervously as we passed by; others scampered over to be by Mummy’s side. We had lunch at a picnic table overlooking the beach, then drove through magnificent scenery on a very narrow, winding road, out along a peninsular to a lighthouse. From there we were able to do a one hour walk out to the end to see another rock stack, this time called the Old Man of Stoer (here, Irene met her first midges, which appear to come in several sizes but all with the same painful, itchy results – the wind had dropped!) . It was not as high as The Old Man of Hoy, but impressive nevertheless. It was a long walk over undulating hills and through a number of boggy patches, but we made it out there and back, and appreciated the exercise. We continued our journey, heading for home via a lovely little sandy beach called Clachtoll Beach (the only really soft, white sand beach we had seen so far in the UK), a ruined castle called Ardveck, and views of an impressive mountain range forming part of the Geopark. The roads in this part of the country are one lane roads. Every hundred metres or so there is a “passing place” on one side of the road or the other. They are small laybys, marked with a sign on a post. When the road is busy, it makes for very slow travel, as cars are continually pulling into the passing place to wait for someone else to pass. We had a wonderful, scenic-drenched day in wild mountain country bathed in mild sunshine, and returned home very happy.

June 1 – Moving day, cold and windy. We had a 38 mile drive in to a coastal town called Ullapool, situated in a beautiful location on the side of a Loch, and ringed by mountains. We had a ferry journey over to an Island called Lewis, part of the Outer Hebrides. We ordered lunch on the boat, but it became a bit dramatic when they were very late in bringing it out, leaving us not much time to gulp it down. Fortunately, we were not asked to pay for it, so we left the boat not completely unhappy. The capital of Lewis is called Stornoway, a town of 5700 people. We were booked into a B&B in a suburb called Swordale, but believing we were too early to check in, we headed off to the most northerly point of the island, called the Butt of Lewis. It is a dramatic section of coastline, with crashing waves and significantly contorted rocks, uplifted sharply and with swirling patterns in the rocks indicating a violent past. We had a short walk out to a headland, but didn’t stay long as strong wind and spattering rain forced us back to the car. We returned to Stornoway, and with some difficulty located our hosts on an island joined to the mainland by a causeway. The house we are in is situated on the edge of a cliff, with a view back to the mainland of the island. Our hosts are really friendly, and have virtually given us the run of the house, inviting us as well to join them for drinks with some friends who were visiting. It is a very comfortable existence and we retired to our quarters after a long noisy and invigorating conversation around the kitchen table.