April 13th 2014

 

Heading south into the rain sodden highlands today.

 

In the good old days, Scotland on a Sunday was empty. Everyone observed the Sabbath and everything was shut. I'm glad to say that although some of the trappings of modern life have reached this far north there is still a presence of tranquillity on the seventh day. To add to this feeling of emptiness after a week of near unbroken, albeit windy, sunshine on Orkney the forecast for today was for a heavy rain to cover the Highlands of Scotland. Ohh good, a perfect day then to drive from Thurso to Skye. As I left Thurso the wind was still picking up and so I spent an hour on the beach trying to capture the noise of the waves and the wind. It was only 9am but already dog walkers were huddled against the fury of the breeze to exercise their dogs. Images can never portray the sheer effort needed here to remain upright and take a few photographs.  I returned to the car and bade a farewell to the wild Atlantic, next stop Achnasheen

 

Achnasheen (Below) holds a very dear place in my heart. It is about half way between Inverness and the Kyle of Lochalsh and contains absolutely nothing. And yet, in 1980 I stayed here with my parents and their friends for a night. In those days the Achnasheen Hotel stood hard by the railway line; dinner involved gazing across the brown peat stained water jugs to the windswept tracks just 10 feet away, beyond which a pyramidal coal pile blew dust into the river. I think you'll agree an excellent choice for accommodation while masticating a haggis or two. Sadly this hotel burnt down in the 1990's and was never rebuilt, possibly as absolutely nothing recommends this village to the passing tourist, yet they have their own website, and I love coming back here. Don't ask me why.

 

But this had to be one of the best hotels I've ever stayed in. Mad as a box of Arbroath Smokies but a hotel with life to it. On arriving at Achnasheen, which in those days meant 80 miles of single track roads with passing places, we were met by a dead sheep legs in the air by the Welcome to Achnasheen sign. The view below is of that very spot (the new road is now to the right). After our evening meal we went for a summer perambulation around the derelict train yard and gazed longingly at the Antiques and Brick-a-Brack shed, the only shop in the village, before returning to the Hotel for a wee dram. It was here while in the residents lounge the Hotel owner came in and asked if we minded if the local shepherd slept on the sofa. Assuming this meant later in the evening, we were mistaken and in walked a rough hewn man with his collies who promptly curled up and fell asleep. Apparently he had walked a number of miles over the hills to the Hotel for a drink and it being a wild night, and he being slightly worse for wear, he didn't fancy the walk back until dawn. True to his word in the morning he was gone and so were we to Balmacara, my next stop in 2014 too.

 

Interestingly in 1990 one of my course colleagues on my degree at Newcastle University came from here. I asked her where she lived and Fiona (can't remember her surname) said, ohh the estate there, we own about 150,000 acres all about. Small world in a possibly large way.