Return to Norfolk

Last year, we spent an enjoyable week in Norfolk. The largely rural county is a haven for birdlife and there are nature reserves dotted around the coastline. There are also several heritage railways to explore and the pace of life is generally slower than is the case in urban southern areas. Indeed, there isn't a single motorway in the region and the only city is Norwich. Norfolk is perfect for a quiet getaway. We decided to repeat the experience during my Easter holidays and booked six nights in Reepham, a bustling small market town in the middle of the county.

We had a 390-mile drive ahead of us and elected to take the M6 before cutting across the Pennines on the A66 to meet the A1 at Scotch Corner - a historic point of divergence for routes into eastern and western Scotland. The A66 partly follows the course of an old Roman road, which explains the long straight undulating sections. A major project to dual the remaining stretches of single carriageway began last year. Let's hope it doesn't run into the same difficulties as the A9 upgrade in the Highlands. An unusual sight by the roadside was a two-humped camel in the field next to Mainsgill Farm Shop. Apparently three desert ships reside there. Not something you often encounter in Cumbria! We pulled into the historic trading town of Brough (bypassed since 1977) to eat our packed lunch by the river. Afterwards it was full steam ahead to Scotch Corner and down the A1 to Newark Junction in Nottinghamshire. We drove across the fens of Lincolnshire and into Norfolk, stopping in the large retail park outside King's Lynn for a bite to eat. From there, we merely had to follow a B-road all the way to Reepham. That was the theory. Scheduled roadworks enforced a detour but we arrived at our cottage around 8pm. The owners lived next door, making check-in an easy process. It was clean and comfortable, perfect for a week's stay. The Georgian market square was just a few minutes walk away and Reepham has a good level of facilities. A butcher's and delicatessen offer quality produce and regular groceries can be picked up at the Spar and Co-op. There is also a pharmacy and post office, along with several other local businesses (including antique shops). Two pubs serve food and dispense real ales. The town is a good base for exploring Norfolk. The county is car-centric but regular buses run from Reepham to Norwich. After a good night's sleep, we began our first full day with a trip to the garden centre in the nearby village of Bawdeswell. The premises are cavernous and have served the region for 40 years. Contained within the building is Bluebell Square, a series of independent shops. Nicole wanted to visit the art-supplies outlet and she stocked up on materials. I managed to locate the real ales and purchased a porter and a ruby style from Moon Gazer Brewery, based along the road near Fakenham. Another beer stop was made back in Reepham at the Panther Brewery on the edge of town.

Based in an industrial unit, Panther has a retail outlet and owner Martin James greeted us at the front door. After years of trying his hand at home brewing, he established Panther in 2010 - the name stemming from rumours of big-cat sightings in the local area. I was already aware of the brewery as I had purchased a couple of their ales last year at the Beers of Europe shop, near King's Lynn. A core range of nine ales is produced, with additional seasonal specials. I loaded up a cardboard carrier with half a dozen bottles, at a cost of just £17. The plan was to savour one Norfolk pint each night for the remainder of the holiday. Martin informed us he was happy to be in the position of living and working in the same town, after years of corporate travel. I'm sure Panther will continue to thrive. We drove north to the charming Georgian town of Holt (population 4000), a place I had passed through last year en route to the North Norfolk Railway - a steam heritage operation that closed to regular traffic in 1964. The fully-restored station lies on the edge of town and today we had the chance to explore the historic interior. We parked up and made our way to the tourist office, where we learned about local parks and green spaces, as well as the Owl Trail - a series of plaques forming a circular tour of the town's historic sights, including Nelson House where the famous naval admiral is said to have spent holidays with relatives as a boy. Holt hosts a weekly market and an annual arts festival featuring music, theatre, literature, cinema and art. The town has many independent businesses and we had lunch in the Owl Tea Room, reckoned to be the oldest such establishment in Norfolk. The crab quiche was delicious. We enjoyed ice creams on a sunny bench afterwards. Our holiday plan was to eat out during the day and cook for ourselves at night. Along with Reepham, Holt is mentioned in the Domesday Book, published in 1086. The settlement survived a devastating fire in 1708 and was rebuilt in the style evident today. Holt is a great destination for a day trip and I would gladly return here to explore further. Our next destination was the Wells & Walsingham Light Railway out on the North Norfolk coast. Billed as Britain's smallest "public railway" (it was constructed following an Act of Parliament in 1982), the narrow-gauge tracks run from Wells-next-the sea to the inland abbey village of Walsingham, a distance of four miles. Services are scheduled from the middle of March to the beginning of November and the line operates a policy of first come, first served. Four trains (hauled by either steam or diesel mini locomotive) run each day and a return trip costs £14. On-site parking adds another £2.50 to the total. We purchased tickets on the platform and browsed the souvenir shop, while awaiting the next service - due to be pulled by steam. I watched the locomotive emerge from the storage shed and we took our seats in a covered carriage with window spaces open to the elements.

Soon we were trundling through the countryside and we spotted several hares bounding across the fields. A full-sized abandoned platform alerted me to the fact this route must have once been used by regular train services. The gradient was fairly stiff in places as the course mostly follows the natural undulations of the landscape. A red kite flew overhead and the journey was a pleasant one. Jacket required, but otherwise not chilly in the slightest. We didn't have time to head into Walsingham and instead returned to the starting point after the locomotive had changed ends. This time I sat upon a breezy open carriage, while Nicole remained under cover. A kestrel hovered directly above us and I had a fantastic view of this agile predator. Back at Wells, we were surprised to see a large number of people on the platform (our service had been fairly quiet). All good business for this quirky railway. Naturally, the colourful Michael Portillo has already visited for one of his excellent TV train episodes. The constitution formally designates the railway as a non-profit company and all proceeds are ploughed back into maintaining and improving the infrastructure. The shop and café are housed within a vintage signal box, staffed by volunteers. The tracks occupy a portion of a branch-line that ran south from Wells to the market town of Wymondham, where it met the present Cambridge to Norwich Route. It skirted the edge of Fakenham on the way. The branch closed in stages during the 1960s and all passenger services had ceased by the end of the decade. Freight traffic continued for another 20 years. Wells Station opened in 1857 and closed in 1964. The West Norfolk Junction line (closed 1953) also served Wells. It split off from the West Norfolk coastal route between King's Lynn and Hunstanton, which bit the dust in 1969. The county was absolutely hammered by the Beeching cuts. These rural routes would once have brought many tourists to the coast but they couldn't compete with the rise of the private car. Thankfully Norfolk has several heritage railways today. I guess that means I'll be back! After refuelling Dolly Duster in the town centre, we drove along the coastal road to Cley Marshes - a huge nature reserve owned by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust. We only had time to check out the excellent gift shop and ask for some general advice at the reception. No matter, this place was on our list for the week. But first up was a jaunt to neighbouring Suffolk.

Without wishing to blow too loudly on my own trumpet, I'm rather adept at planning a driving route and committing it to memory. This becomes an insurmountable task in Norfolk and Suffolk. Both counties are covered in a dense patchwork of rural roads and you have to negotiate many junctions. Over to you Siri, King of the SatNav. Our destination was RSPB Minsmere, a reserve which plays a crucial role in the founding myth of our birding obsession. We spent an afternoon here a decade ago, merely for something to do while spending a few days with friends in the general area. I even photographed an avocet without having a clue about its identity. Starlings we did recognise, and they performed a spectacular series of murmurations at dusk. Since then we have vastly increased our knowledge (Nicole much more than I). The time was ripe for a return visit and there was the enticing prospect of possibly seeing a bittern. It was a chilly day but fortunately the conditions remained dry. We had lunch in the café before heading out to the hides. Our membership cards allowed us to avoid the £10 entrance charge. With woodland, reedbeds, grassland, heathland and the wild coast to explore, you can easily spend a whole day at Minsmere. The mixed landscapes are carefully managed to provide suitable habitat for many species of wildlife. In addition to birds, the reserve is a haven for insects and rare plants thrive here. Otters and water voles can also be found, along with adders. Ponies play a vital role in creating appropriate levels of vegetation. The key bird species are marsh harrier, bittern, bearded tit, avocet, nightingale and stone curlew. Little egrets are ten a penny these days, but they were rarely sighted in the UK for much of the 20th century, due to ceaseless persecution for exotic feathers during Victorian times (a widespread practice that led directly to the formation of the RSPB in 1889). The Bittern Hide at Minsmere was opened in 2001 and overlooks reed beds. The elevated structure offers a good chance of seeing this shy member of the heron family. Would this be our lucky day? The trademark boom rang around the reserve and was certainly an encouraging sign. But firstly, the supporting act delivered a display of the highest quality. Marsh harriers are now off the conservation red list and their future prospects look promising. The majestic winged warrior swooped over the reeds and came close to the hide. Perhaps his presence startled other birds in the vicinity, as we were soon treated to a truly astounding sight.

A trio of bitterns flew up in the air. Yes, you read that correctly! Sometimes birding can be a bit like waiting for a bus. Nothing happens for ages, then three arrive at once! We had excellent views through the binoculars but the light was a little too dim for reliable photography and we captured only blurry images. Not that it mattered a jot. The real joy was finally seeing this highly elusive legend. There was much excitement among the watchers and moments like this are a precious experience. The British bittern population jumped by 20% last year - the biggest increase since monitoring began in 1990. Habitat loss and hunting almost drove them to extinction by the end of the 19th century but they have finally clawed their way back. Bitterns are dependent on reedbeds and the RSPB outlined a mission to create and restore these wetland habitats. Thereby providing the conditions the birds need to feed and breed successfully. It was a stunning conclusion to the afternoon and the mood was buoyant as we drove back towards Norfolk. We passed through the pleasant market town of Beccles, a place I had never previously heard of. A stretch of dual carriageway allowed us to bypass Norwich and we were soon back in Reepham, recounting the day's success. The sun returned on Thursday and we drove up to Cley Marshes, intending to spend the best part of a day at the North Norfolk Reserve. Spoonbills are commonly sighted here and we hoped to register another spectacular spot. The visitor is built into a hillside and offers panoramic views of the coastline. You can take in the vista from the café and roof terrace. Admission charges applied as we aren't members of the Norfolk Wildlife Trust. The organisation was founded in 1926 and manages over 60 reserves and other protected sites across the county. We made our way along the wooden boardwalk to the cluster of hides. A first for me, as I'd been away riding steam trains when Nicole came up to Cley last year, although I met up with her in the visitor centre later in the day. As expected, there were many avocets in the wading pools. The return of this black and white bird to the UK has been a real success story. Absent as a breeding species for 100 years, they appeared in 1947 at Minsmere and have now spread across much of England, even making the odd foray north of the border. Also splashing about in the wetland areas were godwit, lapwing and moorhen. Nicole spotted a ruff and we also watched the shoveler ducks swimming gracefully. A good selection, but no sign of the spoonbill, although we did hear it had been sighted on the reserve fringes.

The freshwater marsh at Cley is fed by chalk springs underlying the local landscape. A network of pipes and drains aids this process. The water emerges from the bedrock source and the flow is steady and clear. Yesterday we had stopped by an attractive chalk stream in the village of Stiffkey, watching pheasants in the adjacent field as we sat on a rustic bench by an ancient brick bridge. Narcissus would surely have given the thumbs up to the water quality. The cool and mineral-rich nature of these river systems creates a unique ecosystem that supports an abundance of aquatic life. The NWT territory at Cley is carefully managed to provide differing heights of vegetation and water levels in order to attract numerous species. Saltmarsh is also present beyond the scrapes in front of the hides. The terrain was first altered for agricultural purposes back in the 16th century. These changes then became part of the local environment and and the trust has not sought to completely reverse this development , even if it were possible. It's a case of making the best out of what you have at your disposal. Suddenly a stoat scampered across the grassy strip directly before below the hide windows and this was the first time we had seen this elongated mustelid in the wild. They are capable of taking prey far larger than themselves and rabbits are a frequent target, killed by a sharp bite to the base of the skull. Stoats also feed on small rodents, birds and eggs. They are active at all times and are distributed throughout the UK. An unexpected bonus to see one. Hunger was calling and we wandered up to the café for lunch. I ordered a marshman's platter, which consisted of ham, cheese, bread, coleslaw, pickle and salad. Broadly similar to a ploughman's. We gazed towards the sea as we ate. Nicole saw a flyer for a folk concert in a couple of day's time and we bought tickets online. It would give us an excuse to return to this magical reserve. After another look around the shop, I decided to check out another hide while Nicole sat outside on the terrace. Still no sign of the spoonbill but the beauty of birdwatching is that things don't just appear on tap. We drove a couple of miles to Cley village and found a public car-park. A smokehouse on the main drag had dressed Cromer crabs for sale and we purchased a couple to eat back in the car. They are known locally for their tender and flavourful meat, with a good ratio of white to brown. We walked along to the windmill - a listed structure that currently functions as luxury bed & breakfast accommodation. First mentioned in print around 1820, the five-storey mill was worked until 1921, when it was converted to a holiday home. In 1979, the property was inherited by Colonel Charles Blount, father of the successful singer and songwriter James Blunt. Young James spent many holidays in the windmill and embarked upon a military career before becoming a full-time musician. His debut album shifted 12 million copies worldwide and was the best-selling UK release in the 2000s. The record also peaked at number two in the US charts. The windmill is now owned by another family.

The village is officially named Cley next the Sea, but this title is now somewhat misleading due to land reclamation. The quayside in the Glaven estuary received commercial shipping until the 1880s, when the silting up of the channel and the coming of the railway to Holt killed off sea-going trade. In recent years, the historic harbour has been rescued from dereliction and is now home to leisure craft. I decided to investigate a different sort of transport heritage upon our return to Reepham.

Old Kirk Tower

Sometimes the most memorable experiences are unplanned. A recent example occurred when we stopped in Kirkcaldy for breakfast and by chance ended up climbing the tower of a historic town-centre church.

We were on our way to the Fife Coast to watch birds and decided to fill up for the day at Wetherspoons. Just off the High Street, the pub chain opens early each day for food, coffee and soft drinks. There are bargain breakfast deals on offer. A large Scottish with unlimited tea/coffee costs just £7.19 and smaller options are also available, along with vegetarian and vegan platters. I've long been a fan of 'Spoons. Supremo Tim Martin may not be everyone's cup of tea (especially politically speaking) but he is a passionate advocate of real ale and all Wetherspoons branches offer a good selection of cask beer at attractive prices. There is ample seating often on different levels) as the pubs are usually the result of converting former banks, cinemas or public buildings. Venues that became unviable in their original guise as we moved into the internet era. It helps breathe some life into our ailing town centres and everyone is welcome, regardless of whether it's a party of ten having a meal or someone seeking a quiet corner to savour a pint. I believe Wetherspoons also fulfils a vital social role, providing a place that doesn't price out people on low incomes. Refillable hot beverages can be obtained for next to nothing. We finished our food and walked back up to the car, passing the Old Kirk which has an attached graveyard. On impulse, we climbed the steps for a look around and a sign informed us the church was open and an exhibition was on offer inside. The display was a digital recreation of Kirkcaldy over the ages and seemed an interesting prospect. I wasn't destined to find out however, as it was announced a tower tour was about to commence. I had been up there before on a Doors Open Day but was quite happy to go for a second look. Off I trotted, to join another three visitors. The spiral staircase led to the bell room where the guide invited us to have a tug on the thick rope. I duly obliged and took my first tentative step into campanology. The tower parapet was narrow and offered a stunning 3-D panorama of the Lang Toun.

The weather was perfect for seaward photography and the blue colour tones were spectacular. The harbour originally closed to commercial shipping in 1992 but is now up and running again, taking grain deliveries for the adjacent flour mill. The Kirkcaldy seafront has a mixed heritage of industry and leisure. The mile-long promenade has recently been given a facelift and is a popular spot for local walkers. It's fair to say the expansive beach isn't covered by golden sands but it's a nice place to stretch the legs. As is the case with many medium sized places, Kirkcaldy High Street has struggled economically in the age of online shopping. Reconnecting the people with the waterfront is one way of regenerating the town centre. Looking inland, I picked out the red-brick Forbo Nairn linoleum factory - the last vestige of an industry that once dominated the entire town. Also notable was the white art-deco fire station, built in 1938. I returned downstairs to the spacious interior, now extensively utilised as a community space. The Church of Scotland closed the building as a place of worship in 2010 and it is now managed by a community trust. The tower dates from the 15th century and the first written record of Christian services upon the site was recorded in 1244. The Lang Toun's most famous son - the pioneering economist Adam Smith - was christened here as an infant. Over the past 15 years, the kirk has grown into a busy centre for musical events, drama, business meetings and conferences, while retaining worship by local groups on Sundays. The Langtoun Jazz organisation is staging two concerts in the church soon, as part of the annual music festival. After leaving the building, we wandered around the graveyard before continuing on our merry way.

Nairn and the Black Isle

We travelled up north as part of Nicole's graduation weekend. After several years of hard work, she is now a fully qualified counsellor. Driving a fair whack of the A9 in darkness was a new experience for me but the lack of light didn't disguise the fact that dual-carriageway construction is well behind schedule. The project was supposed to be complete by now but the latest estimate for completion is 2035. Our accommodation was in Nairn and we arrived around 8pm. We had reserved a room in a large townhouse where Nicole had stayed on a previous trip. Hosts Corrinne and Jimmy were most welcoming and we had access to our own fridge, kettle and microwave. The room was spacious and comfortable.

It was a drab day as we set out early next morning for the Black Isle - peninsula north of Inverness. The name comes from its dark appearance during the winter months, contrasting with the surrounding snow-covered hills. Our first stop was the Storehouse of Foulis, a restaurant and farm shop just off the A9 on the Cromarty Firth. We had stopped here many times before on journeys up to the family static caravan at Embo on the Sutherland coast. An outlying craft shop furnished us with some ideas for Christmas presents and we bought sausage rolls (veggie option for Nicole) at the deli counter to eat at the bird hide at RSPB Udale Bay, a few miles further upstream on the tidal estuary. The peaceful location is home to thousands of waders, ducks and geese. Regular visitors are redshank, lapwing and snipe. We ate lunch on a bench overlooking the water. The tide was mostly in but there was a flurry of activity in the wetland pools and small areas of exposed mudflats. I then took my leave to go and investigate Kirkmichael - a restored church and mausoleum for local land-owning families, dating back to the 1400s. A short drive brought me to the project site and I explored the graveyard. The elevated position allowed me to look down upon the bird hide in the middle distance. Many of the fallen gravestones have been repaired and righted. Some bear trade symbols or the skull & crossbones - a reference to human mortality, not the plague as is often assumed. They actually represent the brevity of earthly life, no doubt an even more pressing matter in those times. The church was in operation until 1769 and the oldest parts date from the 1400s. Thankfully, the whole complex has been rescued from dereliction by a local trust. The site was unmanned today but the doors were unlocked. Access is available during daylight hours. The transformation from Catholic chapel to Protestant Kirk occurred after the 1560 Reformation and the redundant chancel was converted in 1708 to house grave slabs and memorial stones. Written records of the church date back to 1429. It's certainly worth poking around here if you happen to be passing.

We hugged the coast on a B-road that led to Cromarty on the tip of the Black Isle. We drove round to the ferry port, where a seasonal service shuttles across the firth to Nigg from June until September. The journey takes 10 minutes and two cars can be accommodated. All was quiet today but we enjoyed the stunning outlook from the A-listed deep-water natural harbour. We wandered into Slaughterhouse Coffee and ordered hot refreshments. Payment was by card only and a couple of tables were squeezed into the tiny premises. It was however pleasant enough to sit outside and a tannoy announcement alerted us when our drinks were ready for collection. Apparently dolphins can sometimes be spotted in the bay. The harbour as it is today dates from the 1780s. Many people boarded ships to North America during the infamous Highland Clearances. The once vibrant fishing industry declined in the early 20th century but the port was of great strategical importance during both world wars as it provided safe anchorage for the battle fleet. The sea connection was also an important delivery artery for the townsfolk. Household goods, food and fuel continued to arrive by boat until the 1960s. The opening of the oil-rig construction yard at Nigg in the 1970s ensured a steady flow of customers for the ferry and this crossing continues to provide the main harbour traffic, along with pleasure craft and a handful of small fishing boats. A major maritime disaster occurred near Cromarty in 1915. The armoured cruiser HMS Natal was floating in the firth when a series of massive explosions occurred. It is likely that the blast was caused by fire in one of the magazines, although this was never officially confirmed. Enemy action was swiftly ruled out. Many of the crew were on shore leave and some were competing in a local football match. The death toll onboard was 412, including guests of the Captain, who was hosting a private party. Only a small number of bodies were recovered. Numerous salvage efforts were undertaken over the years. The protruding remains were finally blown up in the 1970s to level the wreck so that it would not be a hazard to navigation. We proceeded to have a look around the small town and a couple of friendly cats made our acquaintance. We explored a couple of gift shops and browsed a pottery and art gallery. Further Christmas gifts were acquired. Dusk was approaching and I wanted to pop into the Cromarty Brewery shop a couple of miles outside town on the A832. On the way, we pulled over at an automatic egg dispenser. The elaborate contraption was housed within a large wooden hat and basically resembled a giant vending machine, with little doors that opened once you had made your selection and paid. You simply have to see this machine in action if you are ever in the vicinity. The brewery doesn't offer tours but the shelves are well stocked with bottles and cans.

With Christmas just a few weeks away, I decided to buy my stash for the entire festive period. I filled a cardboard box, sticking mainly to traditional styles but also throwing in a couple of left-field choices. I had been aware of the brewery's existence for a few years, having seen their produce in shops around the Black Isle on previous trips to the area. Craig Middleton founded the operation in 2011. After gaining a first class degree in Brewing Science at Heriot Watt University, he worked in Scotland and the USA before setting up his own business, based at the family farm. The additional workforce of five are all from the local area and the brewery supplies pubs, shops and restaurants around the Highlands. A conscious decision was taken to avoid chasing growth at any cost, and the outfit is not beholden to large supermarket chains. Please stop by if you are ever heading to Cromarty. Back in Nairn, we went into town for a meal to celebrate Nicole's graduation. The Christmas lights were all in position but weren't due to be switched on until the following evening. We found a table at Ozzy's restaurant on the High Street. It was our first experience of Kurdish cuisine and the food was certainly impressive. Ozzy's backstory was printed on the menus. A native of Kurdistan (northern Iraq), he had worked as a chef in Baghdad, Lebanon and Paris, before moving to the the Scottish Highlands in 2000. The agenda for the next day centred around the Findhorn area, just a few miles along the road from Nairn. The River Findhorn forms a large enclosed estuary, which provides a feeding ground for large numbers of visiting wading birds. Redshank and dunlin are often joined by knot and sanderling. The local breeding population includes curlew and oystercatcher. Various ducks, divers and geese can be spotted on the reserve. Unfortunately we were unable to gain access to the hide as the door handle had snapped off. We had more luck at the beach and had a wander along the shoreline, noting the extant concrete defences from WW2. Findhorn is also famous for its eco-village. Lying just south of the historic coastal settlement, the Findhorn Foundation is a spiritual community of around 400 people, formally founded in 1972. The project had begun with a single caravan a decade previously. Over time, the organisation grew and the residential "Experience Week" drew paying visitors from around the world (Nicole among them). The wheels came off during the Covid lockdown when funds dried up and a disgruntled member of staff burned the community centre to the ground after learning he was to be let go as part of a restructuring programme. The educational workshops have now been moved offshore and the eco-village now has a quieter air. Anyone is welcome to visit and we popped into the café for a vegetarian lunch.

We viewed the original garden and perused the on-site shop. It's a unique place in Scotland and well worth checking out if you happen to be passing by. The long-term prospects for the Foundation must be uncertain as many inhabitants are now elderly. Culbin Forest stands on the other side of the bay and we drove round to the main car-park within the woodland. The shortest walking trail was a circular route around a couple of gravel-pit ponds which lay within an area of marshy land. Most of Culbin’s shoreline, from the tree boundary to the low tide mark, is an RSPB reserve. This mix of saltmarsh, mudflats, sand and shingle is a vital feeding ground for wading birds throughout the year. The shelter of the firth provides ideal conditions for wintering sea ducks and geese. At low tide, godwits, oystercatchers and knots feed on the sands. The reserve is dynamic and ever-changing, shifting with the winds and the tides. In 1694, several houses were completely engulfed by the moving sands. The local people had inadvertently sealed their own fate by removing the binding marram grass for thatching purposes. The Forestry Commission purchased the estate in the 1920s and 400 lorry-loads of timber are produced every year. The wartime anti-glider poles on the beach have been left in situ. Back at our accommodation, we decided to enjoy pizza in front of the TV. I ran round to the takeaway premises, which had touch screen terminals for ordering your food. Par for the course in fast-food restaurants these days, but this was the first time I'd seen the technology in such a small shop. The next day we were homeward bound. Rather than head along to Inverness, we took the scenic route down the A940 to join the A9 further south. We traversed open moorland and descended to the touristy Grantown-on-Spey, with its long High Street. We bashed onwards, stopping to pick up some food at the fabled House of Bruar. A nice little weekend away.