Angus Glens

Our final road trip of my summer break was a jaunt up to the fringes of the Cairngorms National Park. The Angus Glens lie to the north of Kirriemuir and offer many walking routes within a remote setting. Public transport is extremely limited beyond Kirriemuir and refreshment options are thin on the ground. With access to a car, you can enjoy a peaceful break not too far from the City of Dundee and the Angus county town, Forfar.

We booked four nights at the Glen Prosen Hostel and they texted the door-entry code to us. The journey was a straightforward run up the A90, pausing at Forfar to pick up a takeaway lunch from the famous Saddler's bakery and tearoom. Kirriemuir lies a few miles further north and is known as the Gateway to the Glens. With a population of 6000, Kirriemuir has a good range of facilities and offers a number of tourist attractions. For further details, see my blog post about the town. Before venturing into the glens, we pulled up at RSPB Loch of Kinnordy. A mosaic of open water, reedbeds and marsh scrubland, the reserve is surrounded by farmland and attracts a wide variety of wildlife. Raptors are often spotted and we witnessed an osprey flying back and forth. At one point is was clutching a small fish. We visited all three hides before driving along the B955 as far as Dykehead, where a minor road split off for Glen Prosen. We passed a memorial to the explorers Edward Wilson and Robert Falcon Scott, who perished on the return journey from the South Pole in 1912. Glenprosen Village sits by the Prosen Water and has a cluster of houses and a functioning church. Our hostel was located in the old primary school building which had previously operated a tea room. Nobody else was inside and we assumed it was first come, first served with respect to room allocation. We had the place to ourselves for the evening, although the warden did briefly drop by. There was ample seating in the kitchen and lounge and the bedrooms were fine. The only potential downside was the cramped bathroom facilities. Not a major issue when a handful of people are staying but if all 18 berths were occupied it would surely be awkward. I wandered down to the information board at the village church and read about the Minister's Path that led over the hills to Glen Clova. It follows the eight-mile route taken by the local clergyman to conduct services at the two churches. Originally undertaken on horseback, the path was improved to allow use of a trap. I wasn't planning to walk the entire distance but reckoned a stroll up the hillside from Prosen would open up nice views of the surrounding countryside. The next morning, we awoke to the sight of rabbits running around the pasture land beside the hostel. It was a dry day and a trip to Glen Doll was on the cards.

Heading back to the B955, we drove along Glen Clova, past the hotel of the same name and out into Glen Doll along a single track road. Eventually we arrived at the ranger base, which has a large car-park and toilet facilities. The Forestry Commission ask for a fee of £3 to leave a vehicle for a few hours but I don't begrudge these charges as the revenue helps fund local projects. Six walking trails of varying lengths and degree of difficulty fan out from the car-park and I decided to head for Corrie Fee, while Nicole opted for a shorter and flatter excursion. Two miles along a rising stony forest track brought me to the rim of the spectacular natural amphitheatre, carved out of the rock by glacial action some 12000 years ago. It was a magnificent sight and I stood on a boulder, gazing towards the waterfall at the opposite end. It is possible to continue along the corrie floor and climb up to the Cairngorm plateau but I contented myself today with the green panorama that lay before me. I turned tail and worked my way back to the ranger station, rendezvousing with Nicole at a picnic table for lunch. Upon reaching the B955, we drove along the other side of Glen Clova (the road forms a circuit) and had to slow down several times due to red grouse running around. It was perilously close to the "glorious" 12th of August - the start of the game shooting season - and I wondered for how long the birds would enjoy their freedom. The plump Highland native feeds on heather and can be found on heathlands and moorland. Red grouse are often spotted when flushed, suddenly flying upwards with rapid, whirring wingbeats. They also eat berries, seeds and insects. Managed grouse moors have been part of Scotland's landscape since the 1850s. This practice involves burning heather, while raptors in the vicinity were historically persecuted by gamekeepers. Granting legal protection to birds of prey has apparently not eradicated the issue. The main ecological problem with managed territory is the fact the land is geared to foster one species only, when naturally a host of wildlife would happily share the space. There is also the question of whether large tracts of Scotland should be reserved as a playground for the rich, not to mention the actual killing of the grouse, many of which are subsequently dumped in pits as there isn't a big market for their meat.

The parties proposing Scottish independence remain curiously tight-lipped on this affair, as well as the wider context of land ownership reform. Our next port of call was the Wilson-Scott Memorial. Edward Wilson grew up in Gloucestershire and served as a zoologist under Captain Robert Falcon Scott on the successful Discovery mission to Antarctica. Wilson was subsequently employed by the government to investigate the causes of grouse disease in the Angus Glens. Scott visited regularly and offered Wilson the position of chief scientific officer on the proposed trek to the South Pole. Much of the planning for the ill-fated Terra Nova expedition was done in Glen Prosen. The party reached the target in January 1912, only to find they had been beaten by a Norwegian team under the command of Roald Amundsen. The men were tragically overwhelmed by blizzards on the way back, their frozen bodies eventually being found just 10 miles short of a vital supply dump. Funnily enough, I had recently read up about Wilson after seeing an emperor penguin's egg in the Natural History Museum, London. Wilson had set off with two fellow scientists during the Discovery expedition, in search of evidence linking the evolution reptiles and birds. It was thought the examination of emperor penguin embryos might help solve the riddle and the trio walked a punishing 60 miles to the only known breeding colony at the time. Over five weeks, they endured harsh temperatures, hauling heavy sledges in complete darkness. Three intact eggs were brought back to the ship and eventually to London. The scientific theory wasn't proven but the tale is a great example of the human thirst for knowledge. I tipped my hat to two remarkable men and noticed the world globe and husky dog carved into the stonework. We headed back to the hostel and were in the middle of eating dinner when a French family of six arrived. They commandeered a room while I lit a fire in the wood-burning stove in the lounge. I had spotted half a bag of prime firewood round the back of the hostel, obviously left behind by a previous resident. A shame to waste such a precious resource! I soon had a blaze roaring and even though the house hadn't been remotely chilly, I always enjoy the process of nurturing a fire. The programme for the following day was a drive south to Glamis Castle, a few miles beyond Kirriemuir. This time, we took a more direct route along, or rather up and over the glen on a narrow unclassified road. Oncoming traffic was light and we stopped to pick a large cep mushroom that Nicole had spotted by the roadside.

Arriving in Glamis village, we turned into the castle entrance and paid for two grounds tickets at the gatehouse. We have been inside many stately homes over the years and often take the cheaper option nowadays of exploring the walking trails around the gardens. Castles always look best from the outside, in any case. Around three quarters of a mile long, the carriage drive led to the car-park behind the main building. It was lunchtime and we headed into the courtyard (via the gift shop) to sample the menu in the café. The bustling dining area was well-appointed but there was no table service and the venison burgers merely adequate. A slightly overpriced canteen. The melange of languages spoken among visitors indicated Glamis features prominently on the itineraries of foreign tourists. We wandered round to the lawn in front of the castle. Glamis is closely linked to the Royal family as the Queen Mother spent large parts of her childhood here. The property is the ancestral home of the Earls of Strathmore - the title held by her father Claude Bowes-Lyon. Elizabeth was his ninth child and in 1923 she married Prince Albert, Duke of York and second son of King George V. The couple's destiny changed drastically in 1936 following the shock abdication of Albert's older brother King Edward VIII, after less than a year on the throne. Albert became king and reigned as George VI until his death in 1952. His eldest daughter Elizabeth of course served as monarch for 70 glorious years until her passing last autumn. The Queen was born in London but her sister Margaret arrived in the world here at Glamis Castle - the first person in the direct line of succession to be born in Scotland since the 1600s. The two girls were regular vistors to Glamis during their summer holidays. We took photos of the castle and I noted the Great Sundial, erected in 1671. At 21 feet high it is one of the largest in the country and was originally used to set the castle clocks, rather than being a purely decorative structure. We passed an enormous chestnut tree where the Queen Mother played as a child. She lived to the grand old age of 101 and was still around in the early years of the 21st century, her longevity being partially accredited to a daily glass of gin. It certainly preserved her!

We entered the Italian Garden, designed in 1910 by Countess Cecilia, the Queen's grandmother. A combination of formal borders and lavish plantings, the enclosure features a raised terrace and stone fountain. We inspected the memorial to Princess Margaret, who died in 2002, shortly before her mother. Nicole nudged me to say she had spotted a cat being taken for a walk on a lead. We went over to investigate and found the friendly Bongo, who seemed to be enjoying the experience. His owners chatted to us briefly and another meeting with the local "wildlife" awaited us around the corner. Glamis Castle has its own fold of Highland cattle, fully integrated into local commercial beef production. A dark brown cow was standing by a fence and happily posed for photographs, although one onlooker was pushing his luck by stroking the horns. The shaggy symbol of Scotland is known worldwide and the origins of the breed lie in the Western Highlands, where the animals were once of vital importance to the subsistence economy. The double layered coat, coupled with an ability to create a thick covering of fat allow Highland cattle to breeze through the harshest of winters. Despite the domestic nature of all modern livestock, the hairy beasts are able to consume large amounts of vegetation, which makes them important for conservation purposes. This rejuvenates heather pastures and the resultant dung is a haven for insect life, which kick-starts the food chain. We ambled through the pinetum, planted in 1870 by the Queen Mother's grandfather. There is a variety of trees, including conifers native to North America, which explains their great height. The Strathmore soil is especially favourable in this respect. The pinetum was revamped in the 1990s and the replanting programme uses only wild seed. A signed walk known as the Macbeth Trail takes in a series of seven sculptures representing key scenes from the play. The artwork is carved from oak and fir procured from the estate. Macbeth holds the title Thane of Glamis and acquires more territory by nefarious means, eventually becoming King of Scots. We encountered the three witches, who appear at the beginning of Shakespeare's famous work. Other characters to look out for are King Duncan, Banquo, Macduff and Macbeth himself, along with his wife. The play was written for King James VI after his accession to the English throne. Patrick, 9th Lord Glamis accompanied James to his new kingdom in 1603 and would certainly have met Shakespeare. It is thought he may have recounted tales of Glamis and, since there is no record of Shakespeare having visited Angus, the wily playwright may have adapted some of these stories. Poetic licence and all that!

We proceeded to the walled garden which was a riot of colour. I liked the slightly unkempt nature of the flowers and shrubbery. Having recently visited Hampton Court Palace, where the gardens were perfectly manicured, it was nice to experience a more natural feel. The compound contains a wealth of borders, shrubs, bedding plants and perennials complemented by a tranquil ornamental pond, a large central fountain and a Monet-inspired bridge. The walls display various species of heritage apple trees, trained on espaliers. They blossom in spring and bear fruit in the late summer. The glasshouses are now in a dilapidated state, having been erected in the 1950s as part of a market garden enterprise. The present structure replaced the 1864 original, which reached the top of the wall and stretched almost its entire length. The post-war design contained ten separate hothouses, each with its own purpose, temperature and layout. Behind the brickwork was the forcing ground - a large area under glass where melons and pineapples were produced. A programme of repair and replacement is planned for the glasshouses and it would be wonderful to see them fully functioning. It was time to head back to the car and we retraced our steps through the grounds. The building of the castle as we know it today commenced in 1400, adhering to an L-plan tower house design. The property was seized by James V in 1537 and he lived there for a few years. Upon the King's death in 1542, Glamis was returned to the Lyon family and major renovations ensued. Mary, Queen of Scots, spent two nights at the castle in 1562, dining the the Great Hall. Soldiers were stationed at Glamis during the republican interlude - causing substantial damage - and major restoration works were performed in 1689. Additional improvements were made over the years and piped water arrived in the mid-Victorian age. A gasworks was installed at this time, processing coal to create energy for heating and lighting purposes. Jugs of hot water still had to be carried around the building as plumbed bathrooms weren't installed until 1923. The castle was used as a military hospital for the duration of WW1. Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon helped run the convalescence operation when she came of age. In 1916, a serious fire broke out in the tower and several family treasures had to be hastily removed. The heat melted the lead water tank in the attic and the main staircase was flooded. Fire engines arrived from Forfar and Dundee to quell the blaze, but the damage was considerable. Of far greater concern to the Bowes-Lyon family was continuing escalation of the conflict on the European continent, where four of the earl's sons were serving in the armed forces. Michael Bowes-Lyon was captured by the enemy and confined to a prisoner-of-war camp, while a worse fate befell his brother Fergus, who was killed by a grenade explosion while attacking a German trench.

After perusing the gift shop and leaving the castle grounds, we paused in Glamis village to view the exterior of a thatched cottage before driving the short distance to Kirriemuir. No visit to the town is complete without dropping into the Star Rock sweet shop. Established in 1833, it still trades from the same premises, making it the longest-running business of this type in Scotland. Naturally, the ownership has changed several times over the decades but the recipes are handed down and they are still cooked up in the kitchen to the rear of the shop. Many varieties of boiled sweets are produced, along with Scottish staples such as tablet, toffee, treacle and fudge. Inevitably, some products are sourced externally, such as the bar of German marzipan I bought for my dad. Rows of traditional sweet jars sat on the shelves and I selected a few, from which the old-fashioned quarter-pound measure was weighed. Kirriemuir has a number of quaint shops and still has the atmosphere of an old market town with rural surroundings. I made a metal note to place an online sweet order for my dad's birthday. It's vital to give these traditional businesses some support from afar. We took the easier B-road option back to Glen Prosen and once again we had the hostel to ourselves for the evening. We made plans for our third full day and decided to drive along to a waterfall at the foot of Glen Isla. The map showed a nearby farm shop and café. It sounded like a nice little outing. Another journey back to Kirriemuir and this time we took the B951 past RSPB Loch of Kinnordy, before branching on to a minor road that skirted Loch of Lintrathen. We located the car park for Reekie Linn Waterfall and followed the path through the woods. The falls consist of a six metre drop, followed by a cascade three times as long. When the River Isla in spate, the two sections combine to form a single torrent of 24 metres. The viewpoint at the top of the gorge allowed us to see the tumbling waters in action but there always seemed to be overhanging branches in the way, no matter where you stood. Someone needs to be sent round with a long set of loppers. The plunge pool at the base is 36 metres deep and will eventually undermine the falls, causing them to collapse and form a new feature further upstream. It was this constant process of erosion that formed the sandstone gully over a lengthy period. A slow-moving natural tunnel boring machine.

Steep-sided gorges provide a habitat for unusual plants and Reekie Linn hosts a dense mat of wood sorrel. Birds such as dippers and grey wagtails love this sort of environment - the former being able to withstand strong currents while feeding underwater. Brown trout swim in the waters but salmon are blocked by another waterfall further down the river. Even if they could reach Reekie Linn, the salmon would surely find it impossible to leap. We headed along to Peel Farm shop and had an ice-cream in the sun. I picked up a bottle of local ale to consume later on. We had spotted a sign for a reservoir and decided to drive up for a look. After a few miles, we arrived at a thick concrete retaining wall. Backwater Reservoir was opened by Queen Elizabeth in 1969 and supplies 300,000 people in Angus and parts of neighbouring Perthshire. The dam where we stood is 600 metres in length and it holds back an artificial loch that stretches two miles up the valley. Scottish Water is responsible for maintaining the reservoir, which was the first in Britain to use chemical grouting to create a waterproof barrier below the dam embankment. All very interesting from an engineering point of view but the grey skies and man-made nature of the surroundings meant the outlook was rather uninspiring. Still, another part of Scotland had been ticked off. We followed the B951 up Glen Isla and spotted several signs for the Cateran Trail. A fully waymarked circular route, the trail follows old drove roads and ancient tracks across a varied terrain of farmland, forest, hilltops, moors and lochans. Some of these paths trace the steps of the Caterans – fearsome cattle thieves who raided Strathardle, Glenshee and Glen Isla from the Middle Ages to the 17th century and after whom the circuit is named. This part of Scotland is off the beaten track in hiking terms but the trail never strays more than a few miles from civilisation, making it ideal for beginners looking to experience wild landscape. I'd like to complete the Cateran at some point. People wondered in Beethoven's day what would happen when all available tunes had been used up. Two centuries later, new possibilities are still appearing. You could apply a similar argument to walking routes in Scotland. We stopped at Loch of Kinnordy on the return journey but not a great deal was happening. Back at Prosen Village, I decided to walk a small part of the Minister's Path.

I quickly gained height and had a fine view across the rolling green hills. The grassy path was in fine condition but I scrambled up through the heather to achieve an even broader panorama. I angled my way back down to the trail and pushed further along the valley. Stony tracks on the other side led to outlying crofts. Probably best accessed by Land Rover. I assume Amazon don't venture out here and probably make use of Royal Mail's universal service obligation. Or perhaps there's a parcel pick-up point in Prosen? A group of people were heading towards me and I could hear them conversing in German as they drew closer. I shouted out a greeting of "Guten Tag. Schöner Ausblick hier" and no doubt left them thoroughly bemused. I wandered a while longer then turned back towards the hostel. A Scottish family had arrived and also a couple from France. Next day, we were homeward bound but various activities were planned. We stopped in Forfar for breakfast and found a community café that offered a full Scottish for £5.50. At these rates, you obviously aren't being served gourmet fare but it was a hearty plateful. We then cut across to Montrose Basin on the coast, via the small village of Aberlemno that has three Pictish stones standing by the roadside. They can only be viewed during the warmer months and are encased in wooden boxes during the harsher times of year. The position of the sun made photography very difficult, rendering two of the stones in total shadow. I managed to snap the northernmost boulder at an angle, which allowed the symbols to be discerned. The rock is carved on one side with fantastic images of a serpent over the Pictish motifs of a double-disc and z-rod. A mirror and comb appear at the bottom. The stone was found in the field immediately behind the adjacent stone wall. Another example can be found in the village churchyard but I was happy with what I'd already seen and we moved on. Montrose Basin is one of my favourite nature reserves and we arrived for the second time in as many weeks. The glass-fronted visitors centre looks across the tidal estuary and the water was starting to recede. A good time to arrive as the mud flats would soon be exposed and birds would fly in to find food.

As expected, many eider ducks were bobbing on the surface and an added bonus was a group of seals lounging on a sandbank. As the tide slipped out, groups of waders began to appear and I was delighted to witness a handful of greenshank probing the mud. Montrose is my favourite sort of nature reserve. Good viewing opportunities and an exhibition to peruse. Almost a mini museum experience. Refreshments available too. The staff are highly knowledgeable about the local area and are always on hand to answer queries. We spent an hour and a half watching the wildlife and then drove along to Brechin. Nicole's friend John lives on the edge of the town and we dropped in for a cup of tea and a pleasant chat. Hunger pangs made their presence known on the drive home and we pulled in at the Horn diner on the A90, between Dundee and Perth. Unbelievably, we had never been to this Scottish culinary institution before. Sadly, that statistic didn't change tonight as the place had closed an hour beforehand. The Horn's history can be traced back to the 1960s when Jim and Norma Farquharson began selling fresh produce from the family farm. A milk bar was established and the restaurant building (opened in 1973) has a life-sized model cow on the roof. The retro American diner theme has attracted visitors from far and wide and many TV crews have used the interior for filming purposes. The Horn is well-known for its deep fried bacon rolls. Legendary rock singer Meatloaf once came to sample them. Apparently the operation is poised to move into new premises a mere 100 yards away (and thankfully still incorporating the cow). Covid caused a delay and the project has yet to be completed. Either way, we must visit in the future. If it's good enough for Meatloaf, it's good enough for me. Today however, we had to settle for a McDonald's further down the road.

Big bike race

As a boy in the early 80s, I saw the Milk Race come past our house in Lochgelly, Fife. This was a multi-stage cycle event that traversed the UK on regular roads. Our own little version of the Tour de France. The race name referred to its sponsor - the Milk Marketing Board. The competition ran from 1958 to 1993, ending with the dissolution of the dairy association. I remember marvelling at how quickly the bikes whizzed past, and looking out for the rider in the yellow jersey, which identified the overall leader.

Since that spectacle, I had kept an eye on cycling events in the Olympic and Commonwealth Games if there was a chance of a medal for the UK or Scotland. I had watched bits and pieces of the Tour de France over the years, but my knowledge of the two-wheeled scene never got beyond that of a very casual observer. A few weeks ago, word filtered through that a major road race would skirt our home village of Cairneyhill. Over a period of ten days, the world's greatest riders were coming to Scotland to contest the world championships in a number of cycling disciplines. The Men's Elite road challenge was due to pass us on a Sunday morning. From Edinburgh to Glasgow, a distance of 270 kilometres would be covered on public roads, with the finale being 10 laps around Glasgow city centre. I'm a great believer in going to see spectacles such as this. It may be a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, such as the Olympic torch being carried through Cairneyhill in 2012. Joined by friends Shauna and Gareth from Crossford, we walked up to a suitable vantage point on the pavement alongside the A985, where a couple of hundred people lined the kerb. Police Scotland were enforcing a rolling programme of road closures to allow the race to proceed smoothly (at least, that was the theory). The first bikes we saw were of the motor variety. A couple of dozen police outriders blazed the trail and a slew of team support vehicles followed in their wake. Eventually the riders hove into view and we watched them tackle the rising gradient on their way towards us. This was the leading pack. A much larger group followed shortly afterwards. We had a close-up view of world-class sportsmen in action. Once all the competitors had passed, we walked back home to check the progress of the race on television. Sadly, the event was halted on the other side of Falkirk when a group of climate protestors (surprisingly not shown on the footage) glued themselves to the tarmac. Rather ironic that they targetted the greenest form of mechanised transport imaginable. Moreover, did they use their own two legs/wheels to reach the rendezvous point? Methinks not. I don't think they won many people over to their cause. Quite the opposite I would say. Eventually the bikes reached Glasgow, where a degree of monotony crept in as they raced round, and round, and round the city streets. The winner was Mathieu van der Poel from the Netherlands, whose grandfather was also a legend in the sport. A privilege for West Fife to stage part of the race. A real feather in the cap.

Portsoy Sail Loft

The Moray Firth cuts a large wedge into northeast Scotland. It's southern flank is a coastline we haven't explored to any great extent and it was time to venture up for a few days. Some months ago, I had been searching online for accommodation around Inverness and Dingwall. The Sail Loft in Portsoy appeared among the results and, while the bunkhouse was in the wrong location (too far east) for that particular trip, I was struck by the welcoming appearance of the recently renovated premises. This time around, Portsoy was an ideal base for a three-day stay and we booked one of the dozen or so twin rooms.

We drove up the east coast on the A92 and stopped at Montrose Basin - a large tidal inlet that contains a nature reserve run by the Scottish Wildlife Trust. Our membership cards granted free access to the elevated visitors centre, which has several viewing positions equipped with binoculars and powerful scopes. There is also an exhibition and gift shop. Toilet facilities and basic refreshments are provided. We had been to the Basin several times before. Friendly and knowledgeable staff are on hand to answer queries and it is always worth pulling in for a look. I had hoped to spot a greenshank and a small group were wading by the water's edge. They feed on worms, snails and small fish, the exposed tidal mud flats providing rich pickings for their long pointed bills. A few terns occupied a man-made wooden island and we just caught sight of a chick's head poking up. There were also swallows flying around and several eider ducks bobbing on the gentle waves. I photographed two collared doves sitting together on a telephone wire. It was a nice little nature pause on a long journey. After picking up supplies in Montrose town, we followed the A92 northwards to the meeting point with the A90 at Stonehaven. The latter highway is the trunk route from Edinburgh to Dundee and Aberdeen. The Granite City was finally bypassed in 2018, meaning traffic bound for the Aberdeenshire towns further north has a far smoother passage. The journey proceeded without interruption and we branched inland on the A947, a road that leads to Banff on the Moray Firth. It was single carriageway all the way and a handful of towns and villages came and went. Eventually we reached the former fishing town of Portsoy and brown signs directed us down to the Sail Loft at the edge of the bay. It was a glorious afternoon and we were welcomed at the accommodation by the warden, who gave us a guided tour. All bedrooms were in the attic space of the building, with the shared facilities being located below. Our room had two skylights on the sloping ceiling and peering through the open gap revealed a view of the sea. There was plenty of headroom for me and the place was nicely furnished. Some hostels, while providing perfectly adequate accommodation, have a tired feel about them but the exact opposite was the case here. The paint seemed fresh and it was no surprise to learn the building had been completely restored within the last few years. The layout meant a night-time toilet visit would entail heading downstairs, an inevitability for those with ageing bladders. But that was a minor quibble.

The walls of the communal spaces were adorned with local artwork and information panels in the lounge outlined the Sail Loft's history. Dating from the 1700s, the complex at one time comprised a sail making workshop, a Georgian house and two cottages. The adjacent ropeworks was lost over the years. After industrial activities ceased, the cottages continued to be occupied, while a dairy operated in other parts of the buildings. The site was derelict by the 1970s and the North East Scotland Preservation Trust acquired the property in 2006. The project was part-financed by the Heritage Lottery Fund and the bunkhouse opened for business in 2016 under the auspices of Portsoy Community Enterprise, who also oversee the annual boat festival, the Salmon Bothy facility, the boatshed by the harbour and the caravan park on the shore. A series of photographs on the kitchen wall illustrated the various stages of the restoration procedure. The Sail Loft now brings tourists into the town and this is infinitely preferable to the building crumbling away and succumbing to the elements. We had a walk on the small pebbled beach and headed up to the High Street to sample the wares at the Portsoy Ice Cream café. Back at the bunkhouse, we cooked dinner in the well-appointed kitchen before settling in for the night. The next day just happened to be our 15th wedding anniversary and we booked a table for a late lunch at the Rockpool Café in Cullen, a few miles along the coast in the westerly direction. Beforehand, we nipped along to the Spey estuary to have a look at the Scottish Dolphin Centre. The Moray Firth is home to a population of around 200 bottlenose dolphins - the largest of their kind in the world. Run by WDC, the leading charity dedicated to the protection of whales, dolphins and porpoises, the visitors centre hosts an exhibition, café and shop. Spey Bay supports the largest vegetated coastal shingle habitat in the country and the beach consists of rounded pebbles shaped and deposited by the sea over millennia. Further inland is an example of wet alder woodland on a natural floodplain. The reserve hosts an assortment of gulls, ducks, geese and wading birds all year round. In summer, common and arctic terns nest on the shingle while ospreys hunt fish. The clean water of the Spey sustains a population of Atlantic salmon and the endangered freshwater pearl mussel and European eel also flourish here. The woodland provides a home for deer, badgers and pine marten, while a rich variety of butterflies are present.

Unfortunately we didn't spot a dolphin in the firth but stay tuned on that front! Marine life did put in an appearance when a seal stuck its head above the water. We wandered towards the visitors centre, noting Scotland's largest surviving icehouse, built in 1830. It was used to keep fish fresh before onward transportation to major population centres. I stopped to examine the sculpture of an osprey with a fish in its talons. The bronze artwork was designed by Fifer David Annand (from Kilmany) and is mounted on a stone plinth. The mosaic panels surrounding the base were designed by second-year pupils at the nearby Milne's High School. In the distance, I spotted the old railway bridge spanning the Spey. The bowstring steel viaduct has a central section of 120 yards and the structure carried trains between 1886 and 1968. More about local railway history later. The viaduct now functions as a public crossing of the river and is well used by walkers and cyclists. The Speyside Way is one of Scotland's four designated long-distance trails. It runs from Aviemore to Buckie and the total distance is 65 miles. One for future consideration. We entered the visitors centre and perused the exhibition. I learned that dolphins swallow their food whole and that only half of their brain sleeps at any one time. There was a display on the perennial problem of plastic in the oceans and I absorbed the rest of the material. On the way back to Cullen, we pulled into the beach car-park and had a brief walk on the sand, pausing to marvel at the rock formations close to the shoreline. The area we were exploring belongs to the historic county of Banffshire but the traditional territory has been split between the Council Areas of Aberdeenshire and Moray for local authority business. We parked in the centre of Cullen and strolled into the Rockpool Café. Obviously we were eager to try the Cullen skink - a thick fish soup known the length and breadth of the land. The main ingredients are haddock, potatoes and onions. Milk is usually added. The waitress informed us there was only one portion left and we decided to share it as a starter. Served with a chunk of bread, Cullen skink is almost a meal in itself. This was followed by the house burger, topped with bacon, cheese and salad. It was juicy and delicious, everything a gourmet burger should be. I rounded things off with a slice of tiffin and we ordered coffees. A lovely anniversary meal in a cosy place.

Leaving the café and sending off a few postcards, my next mission was a railway walk along the coast to the village of Portknockie - a two mile trek that would take me across the spectacular Cullen Burn Viaduct. Nicole opted to sit this one out and drive ahead, meeting me at the iconic Bow Fiddle Rock on the Portknockie shoreline. Cullen actually has three stone viaducts, the easternmost of which features pedestrian portals and crosses the main road near the old station site. This one is blocked off to walkers. The middle structure sports four arches (one now infilled) but the jewel in the crown is the eight-span Cullen Burn Viaduct, now Category-B listed. The tracked runs high above sea level and a flight of steps leads to an arched stone bridge that sits between the two accessible viaducts. The views across the beach and harbour are breathtaking. Cullen Station has been obliterated but the substantial remaining bridge infrastructure is a must-see for all those with an interest in abandoned railways. The line opened in 1886 and was single track with passing loops. Operated by the Great North of Scotland Railway empire, whose tracks spread out across Aberdeenshire, Banffshire and Morayshire, the new coastal corridor ran from Portsoy to Buckie, then on to Elgin, merging with the Highland Railway territory. It's worth remembering the coalescence of the national network involved protracted wrangling between the various private companies involved. Fierce negotiations took place to thrash out the running rights over tracks belonging to other operators. Portsoy had been connected to Banff in 1859 and now trains could run along a fair stretch of the Moray Firth. This arrangement lasted until 1968 when Lord Beeching put the boot in during the rationalisation process. Many lines across the northeast were lost during the post-war period and today a single trunk route cuts inland at Aberdeen, emerges at Elgin and proceeds towards Inverness. Fortunately parts of the coastal trackbed survived to form modern walking and cycle paths.

I took a few photos of the panoramic seascape from the vantage points on the viaducts and briefly left the railway path to scale Castle Hill - a former defence post overlooking the town. The 12th-century timber fortress has long since disappeared but recent renovations of the motte summit (undertaken by local volunteer groups via crowdfunding) have cleared away the impenetrable gorse and created new public footpaths. Benches and picnic tables allow visitors to gaze out to sea or across the town and surrounding fields. Cullen Castle was built as a royal residence and Elizabeth De Burgh - second wife and only queen consort of King Robert the Bruce - died here in 1327 following a fall from her horse. She was buried at Dunfermline Abbey and her organs were removed during the embalming process, in preparation for the long journey south. Some say the entrails were transported separately to Fife while other reports suggest the queen's innards were interred locally. Robert the Bruce decreed a payment be made in perpetuity to Cullen Auld Kirk in order to hold remembrance services. To this day, the town church receives the annual sum of £2.10 from the local authority to say a prayer for the queen and to remember local parishioners who have passed away. Back on the trackbed, I began walking towards Portknockie, initially on a high embankment. I skirted a golf course as the line curved inland and then entered a cutting that ran all the way to the edge of Portknockie. The path ended here and new housing occupies the land where the station once stood, on the higher ground above the historic village. I wandered down to the shore and met up with Nicole at the car-park for the Bow Fiddle Rock.

A natural sea arch just off the coast, the rock resembles the tip of a violin bow. The formation reaches a height of 50 feet and was formed over the course of millions of years due to natural erosion. As well as being a tourist attraction, the rock functions as an important nesting site for sea birds. Bottle-nosed dolphins and porpoises feed in the water around the base of the rock, although we didn't see any of them today? Do dolphins actually make an appearance in this blog post? Well, you'll just have to keep reading in order to find that one out. We sat on a bench overlooking the bay and visitors from France and Germany wandered by. Amazing how they find their way to every conceivable nook and cranny of Scotland. On the drive back towards our hostel we paused at the tiny settlement of Sandend. A cluster of fishing cottages are grouped around the small harbour and a caravan site is situated by the expansive beach. This was my first foray on these sands in half a century. Photos exist of me as a toddler playing with my bucket and spade. I sent a few contemporary images of Sandend to my mum before we moved on. Returning to Portsoy, we parked at the harbour and had a look around. A dolphin statue points towards the sea and was erected in 2014 for the annual traditional boat festival. Originally intended to be a temporary display, the artwork was purchased by the local community who raised the asking price of £6000. Also standing guard is a lighthouse sculpture, designed to raise awareness of mental health. The darker, rougher sea mosaics around the base of the structure represent difficult moods but the artwork becomes calmer as you move towards the guiding light. Lots of food for thought! There are actually two harbours, the newer facility dating from 1822. It was built to service the growing herring industry. The boat festival is held every July and has been going since 1993. Originally staged as a one-off event to mark the tercentenary of the historic harbour, it has continued and is now one of the biggest crowd-pullers in the area. The focus falls upon maritime and seafaring heritage but the programme includes a diverse range of activities such as food & drink stalls, children's entertainment, live craft demonstrations, music and dance.

We had narrowly missed the 2023 proceedings, but I perused the online schedule for the two-day festival. Around 15000 people were expected to attend and a flotilla of heritage boats would be dropping anchor at the harbour. The entertainment was spread across two stages and a raft race and fun run were also planned. The event is a vital part of the region's economy and has allowed Portsoy to re-invent itself following the decline of traditional industries. The craft of boatbuilding is maintained by the community-owned Portsoy Boat Shed, where workshops are offered to people of all ages. Another local asset is the Salmon Bothy, which has a museum on the ground floor and a function room upstairs. Opened in 1834, the three-story building serviced the salmon industry and provided an office, accommodation for workers, ice house, fish preparation area, workshop and storage facilities. The trade lasted until 1990, at which point the bothy became disused. It was taken over by Portsoy Community Enterprise in 2006. More than £400,000 was raised for the restoration project and the venue was opened to the public two years later. The actual bothy (sleeping quarters) remains intact, complete with bunk beds. This space is now used as a base for family history research, with computers and a growing bank of books and resources which are available to browse. The upstairs netting loft is used by many clubs and societies on a regular basis and is available to hire at reasonable rates. We visited the Portsoy museum on our second full day as the poor weather dictated an indoor activity. Beforehand, we had driven along to the next traditional fishing village in the eastward direction. The marina at Whitehills is now focussed on leisure sailing and hosts an annual regatta in August. All these little ports have had to find a new purpose as the Scottish fishing industry is now centred on huge harbours such as Fraserburgh and Peterhead. We parked by the memorial, dedicated to all the men who lost their lives working at sea. There was a fish shop in the village centre and I purchased lunch in the form of a Cullen skink pie and a salmon and broccoli bridie. Both rather tasty.

We wandered from the hostel to the Salmon Bothy via the caravan park. A few tents braced themselves against the breeze. We were accompanied by Julie from Edinburgh, a fellow guest at the Sail Loft. Admission was free and the exhibition was housed over three rooms that formerly contained the ice chambers and packing areas where the fish were stored before onward shipment. The building faces north with the rear dug into an incline. This arrangement protected the produce from direct sunlight. The ice was gathered from Loch Soy during the winter months and brought to the bothy by horse and cart, where it was tipped in through openings in the back wall. Ice delivered in late autumn could still be in effective use by the following spring. Net repairs took place in the workshop on the upper floor. The coming of the railway in 1859 greatly enhanced Portsoy's viability as a trading port and the prosperity of the town grew. The middle gallery examined the boatbuilding trade and also mentioned the Portsoy buoy factory. The latter business was rendered uneconomic in the 1950s by the coming of mass produced plastic alternatives. The town also had a foundry until 1968, the same year the railway was dismantled. The plant served the agricultural and fishing industries and produced a wide range of tools and machine parts. Marble was quarried in Portsoy until late Victorian times. It was a major export in the 18th century, reportedly being used in the Palace of Versailles and other grand stately homes, including Hopetoun House just across the Firth of Forth from us. Today, the mineral is sold from a gift shop in the town. Popular items are jewellery, ornaments and keepsakes. It was fascinating to learn about the varied history of Portsoy and I made a donation and purchased a few postcards. The rain cleared up in the middle of the afternoon and we drove along to Portknockie for another look at Bow Fiddle Rock. Julie came with us and we stopped at a farm shop on the way back. I use the term in the purest sense as the items were on sale in the farmhouse kitchen.

For the journey home, we decided to drive via Aberdeen and stop at Torry Battery atop an elevated piece of land slightly south of the harbour on the Dee estuary. Aberdeen has long been a strategic port and the modern battery was installed around 1860. Heavy guns were mounted and the defence post helped protect the city during both world wars. In June 1941, two vessels approaching Aberdeen harbour were fired upon after failing to identify themselves. They turned out to be friendly. Later in the same year, the battery was employed against enemy aircraft. After a stint as emergency accommodation in the immediate post-war period, the artillery was removed in 1956 and partial demolition of the buildings followed. Various proposals for development came to nothing and today the battery is a scheduled ancient monument. It also happens to overlook Greyhope Bay, a renowned dolphin hotspot. Apparently there is a good chance of seeing the marine mammals at any time of year. We had been meaning to visit this spot for some months, after hearing about the opening of a café and viewing centre on the cliff-top. Siri helped us navigate through the city and we pulled up in the car-park by the remains of the battery. The café has been fashioned from two shipping containers and is entirely off-grid. Green energy, rainwater treatment technology and composting toilets are in operation. A glass wall faces the sea and we ordered lunch to take to the picnic benches outside. We had a commanding view across the water and awaited signs of life.

Not a great deal happened, but at least we'd had a nice meal in attractive surroundings. Nicole suggested we take a walk down to shore level and hopefully get closer to the birds. Before doing so, I ambled around the battery compound and took in the fine views of the city skyline. The harbour handles large vessels and much of the cargo is destined for the oil and gas industries. We made our way downhill and followed an access road along the coast. A typical array of birdlife was out in force, but nothing unusual. Suddenly, Nicole spotted two dolphins leaping in the middle distance. We trained our binoculars and enjoyed several sightings. Finding the exact spot through the camera lens was a difficult task and I simply watched the magnificent creatures at work, or was it play?