Chapter Seventy Six – “Our Highland Adventure: Part Two”

 Day 5 – Wednesday, 17^th October 2018

            Today was always going to be lazy. As such, I awoke at ten, feeling very well rested. No-one else was up, so I decided to get ahead of the game and caught up on some of the washing up from yesterday – therapeutic, in a way. It was only after eleven that I began to sense signs of company, and I moved myself into the living room to make a start on my postcards – one of the items on my to-do list.

            As I challenged myself to come up with five different accounts of my holiday thus far, specifically tailored to my recipients, it dawned on me that I might be atypical in my card writing – not just penning a greeting, but seeking to share facts, thoughts and feelings (often with hopes for the future, too).

            Despite it being a laid back day, Dan suggested we could visit Achin’s bookshop, an out-of-the-way, quaint bookshop and café in Inverkirkaig, whose owner was hoping to retire if only someone would take the business off his hands. It was with a sense of pleasure but also with a sense of sadness, that we browsed the shelves, considering that this place might not be around for our next visit. Somewhere like this, any custom is welcome, so we stayed for a bit and enjoyed the last of their cullen skink soup. We were in no rush.

            A leisurely drive took us through Achiltibuie to Polglass, where we saw the most stunning sunset, with a golden glow silhouetting the distant islands as we looked, facing the southwest. We may have planned for a so-so day, but God granted us a beautiful scene – surely proof of a Creator, a divine Artist.

            Back in Ullapool, we had dinner out at the Arch Inn, where Dan introduced us to Macallan whisky and we discussed the draw of whisky buying – what was the attraction? Dan shared from his experience and I grew in my liking for it, although I still had some unfamiliarity, evidenced in the fact that it was indistinguishable from last night’s – though Dan says otherwise. To eat, Josh had chicken with black pudding mash (to make Venna jealous), and I enjoyed the more unusual breaded monkfish tails – I was curious.

            After a few minutes of unsuccessful roadside stargazing, we headed back to relax with a movie. Trainspotting, tonight on account of my curiosity and morbid desire to see what all the fuss was about. It was fine for me and Dan (who had seen it before), but I could sense it wasn’t quite Josh’s thing. Still, we pressed on and watched to the end. The movie made us realise how empty life could be without purpose (through the medium of drug use), and showed the need for something greater and more permanent. A metaphor for life?

            And with real life to be lived, here I close.

Day 6 – Thursday, 18^th October 2018 

            This morning it became more apparent that our holiday would soon be over. We were now past the half way point. Before breakfast we had our time of scripture and prayers – this morning Psalm 115. ‘Not to us, Lord, but to Your name be the glory.’ (v1)

            Tomorrow’s plans remained as yet uncertain, so we decided on a road trip up north, squeezing in a lot of little places on the way up and back. We left around nine.

            Our first main stop was the white sandy beach at Oldshoremore, but en route we stopped off at the little rural stores in Kylesku and Scourie (we didn’t really need anything, but custom in remote places such as these would be appreciated, so we got snacks and cakes) and passed through Kinlochbervie. Oldshoremore was a large beach, with a wide sweep of white sand, and a visible promontory in the distance, surrounded by a dark blue sea.

            Our next stop had special significance for Dan. At Sheigra Dan took us to a campsite beside another charming sandy beach. However, following on from a story Dan had told us about an incident where his car had got stuck in the mud, requiring rescue, he proceeded to show us the furrows where his car had lodged itself nine years earlier – he was particularly surprised the grooves were still there, as was I.

            On to beach number three, facing northwards at a far end of the Scottish mainland. Sango Sands beach at Durness, possibly most notable in my mind for the freshwater waterfall and stream flowing alongside. As such, I learnt that brackish water was forming as the salt-rich seawater mixed with the freshwater running in the opposite direction – more than this, I could not say, not being a geologist.

            Finally, not far away, was the rather amusingly named Smoo Cave. I imagined the earlier explorers to have found something mysterious and sinister in the dark depths of the cave (vis-à-vis the Balrog, Lord of the Rings), but alas we were unable to walk any further than the first chamber, as our way was barred – to go further a boat would be needed anyway, though we could just see it moored not too far away. From where we stood, we could only admire the waterfall. Before long we turned back, leaving behind whatever mysteries lay deeper. Seeing how far north we were, I was a little disappointed, but we’d come at the wrong time of year for such tours. As at Sango Sands, brackish water was again found here.

            It was now just after four, and we started our return journey via Loch Ereboll. Despite our varied conversation topics (most of which escape me while I write this account), the drive was made somewhat more memorable due to the fact that we’d almost run out of petrol, and as the warning message came on, we were in the middle of nowhere, far from any signs of civilisation, let alone petrol stations. (Just a few signs in German warning of lambs on the road.) I pictured us getting stranded, but Dan remained perfectly calm throughout – what was to be gained by worrying? We made it to Lairg and filled up, and, with a collective sigh of relief, headed back for dinner, via the supermarket.

            The evening consisted of spaghetti for dinner, which I helped Josh to prepare, followed by a movie. Breaking from our Scottish films we watched Walk the Line about Johnny Cash (Seabiscuit was vetoed). However, I felt that I had eaten too much (Dan noted my belly), probably not helped by the large bag of haggis crisps that I ate on my own, having mistakenly bought them earlier in the day for Venna. It’s a hard life.

            Tomorrow would be our last full day. A sad thought, but hopefully still plenty to look forward to. Watch this space.

Day 7 – Friday, 19^th October 2018

            Despite our agreed later start this morning, aiming to leave at nine thirty, my alarm woke me sharply at seven thirty. It was still reasonably dark outside and I could’ve gladly done with a bit longer in bed. But, this thinking was arbitrary – I was awake, and after a shower and breakfast the three of us had our morning prayer time, reading Psalm 116.

            As it happened, it wasn’t until quarter past eleven that we departed. Today, like yesterday, was a mix of stops, indoors and out.

            First up, a visit to Corrieshalloch Gorge (described as the most impressive slot gorge in Britain). As we walked across the suspension bridge, and I peered down over the side, my unease with heights returned as I feared dropping something – my phone or glasses. My nerves were not calmed by Dan’s lateral movement of the bridge, although I did manage to steel myself enough to appreciate the wonder of God’s creation in forming the spectacular chasm.

            The next stop was better than I could’ve hoped for, particularly as it was really incorporated into the trip for my specific interest, at my request. A visit to the Rhue Art Gallery (a place Dan was thrilled to say he’d never gone to before). After parking up the car at the roadside, next to a hillside of sheep, we opened the gate (the gallery was part of a private property) and were greeted by two very adorable huskies. It was no surprise that Dan was so popular, and he got a free face wash into the bargain! As we made a fuss with the dogs, we chanced across the owner and expressed our interest in seeing the gallery. To our surprise and delight, we were given a free visit as he and his wife were actually setting up the gallery specially for an upcoming exhibition of Everest works. They apologised for the mess, and welcomed us in. This worked out better than I could have planned, as I was able to talk to Flick (it was her husband, James, who was the artist) about my appreciation for the paintings on show, and she showed me a range of prints capturing Scottish scenery – Loch Broom, Stac Pollaidh and so forth. Like a private, informal viewing, with the full attention of the artistic team themselves. Hearing they would soon be exhibiting in London, I was even offered an invite. I’ll check the diary! I was captivated by some of James’s effects, and was inspired by his enthusiasm and creativity.

            For lunch at two thirty we stopped by at the Achiltibuie Piping School Café, where I had an Aberdeen Angus beef burger – with a side of black pudding (Dan says this request has become my trademark). It really hit the spot, although with my black pudding, I would’ve gladly had anything on the menu. As we sat, it became apparent to me again, that this was to be our final full day in Scotland.

            To further appreciate our highland surroundings, Josh and I took a stroll up across the neighbouring fields, while Dan snoozed in the car. In wonder I looked around me and breathed deeply – I wouldn’t get views like this in London. That’s what makes a trip like this so special, I guess.

            Time was ticking on, and regrettably we didn’t have time for our forest walk. The evening instead consisted of a Chinese takeaway (I had Kung Po Beef), and Dan’s pre-birthday celebrations (it was actually tomorrow, but driving all day would mean no time to relax), so we gave our gifts – mine a book on the history of St Kilda – and then watched a movie, Minority Report. I settled down with some of my Thatcher’s ‘Katy’ cider (a charming young lady), although I think I may have fallen asleep again, much to my frustration – can it be helped?

            An early start is planned for tomorrow, as we have a long journey ahead. So I’d best sign off here.

Day 8 – Saturday, 20^th October 2018

            On account of the late hour (coming up to midnight) of writing, I will be brief, covering the main points as I round off the holiday.

            We left the cottage at six forty this morning, for the journey back to London. After eight hours in the car, we were only just past Glasgow – we ended up needing to go via Aberdeen on account of an unforeseen errand, making for a particularly enthralling birthday road trip. As expected, the travelling was proving long and monotonous, so I tuned in to Doctor Who to pass some of the time. It was therefore appropriate that, with six hours to go, we felt as if we’d entered a Glaswegian stasis loop, as chaotic junctions made it very difficult to follow the correct route (circa to junction 7 of the M8).

            The last two points of note were (1) the difficult driver encountered at around eight thirty, who was not following the lane discipline, and therefore seemed set on taking out his frustration on us – matching our speed and changing lanes in front of us – and (2) the ‘love story’ that Dan suggested I tell to pass the last hour – Dave, our shy, reserved hero (reading his books on biological mathematics), in love with a mysterious raven-haired damsel, Eleanor, who appeared to masquerade as his mother whilst serving up a teratoma for dinner (which turned out to be fish and chips – possibly mackerel, caught by Captain Julian Moonbeam, while on holiday) with her poor black terrier scratching at the back door. Alas, the story ended with many unresolved threads, and the three of us in much laughter.

            At midnight we arrived back in Kingston, our Scottish holiday a memory. Alas, now life must go on.