I spent a few days in the highlands last week partly seeing how far north I could manage to travel from my base in Dornoch, but also to entice some shy beasties out to play.
The first night was spent at Fort Augustus which is on the Caledonian Canal as it runs into Loch Ness. Nessie was present only in the artistic interpretation shown above. Neither did she turn up as hoped when I stopped at Castle Urquhart on the shores of the Loch.
I was miffed, as I’d grown up hearing about my grandfather’s sighting of the monster some 80 years ago. Sig Other commented acerbically about family traditions of visits by mythical beasts, at which point I harrumphed and shut up.
Loch Ness
Despite travelling a fair bit around and about, no dolphins appeared to me either. Lots of cavorting seals by the shores of numerous firths. Those photos are still in Sig Other’s camera.
Although the wildlife was largely in absentia, the sun was out and the beaches were as advertised with foamy surf and few other humans around.
However, I did achieve one goal of my trip and that was to find an old friend whose address I had lost in a long ago house move. I am quite proud of my amature detective efforts as I nipped into the public loos in Tain and asked the women guarding the facilities if they knew of my friend. Delightedly they said yes, and pointed me in her direction. (Tain is a small town.)
Even better, B seemed happy to see me despite the shock she must have had at me arriving out of the blue after some 14 years of silence. Kettles were boiled, high-speed gossip exchanged and I left with her contact details.
Although I felt some trepidation at boldly knocking on her door, I was reasonably confident of a welcome. We’d long ago agreed that as neither of us were any use at keeping in touch, that no matter how long it was, we’d pick up our friendship when we met again.
She said something rather touching … that “I carried a part of her past and she carried a part of mine”. We met in our first careers more than thirty years ago. This was a turbulent time for both of us professionally and personally, thus we were important supports to each other during these years. I no longer have anyone else in my life who knew the highs and lows and neither does she, so a renewal of our contact means some good/bad old stories can be dusted down and reappraised in the light of maturity and distance.
But this is also a reminder to me to trust in the bonds of real friendship no matter how stretched these might become.
Er, I’ll stop now as I suspect I'm beginning to channel Francis Gay's* column.
http://www.sundaypost.com/frangay.htm
*Another mythical beastie!
The first night was spent at Fort Augustus which is on the Caledonian Canal as it runs into Loch Ness. Nessie was present only in the artistic interpretation shown above. Neither did she turn up as hoped when I stopped at Castle Urquhart on the shores of the Loch.
I was miffed, as I’d grown up hearing about my grandfather’s sighting of the monster some 80 years ago. Sig Other commented acerbically about family traditions of visits by mythical beasts, at which point I harrumphed and shut up.
Loch NessDespite travelling a fair bit around and about, no dolphins appeared to me either. Lots of cavorting seals by the shores of numerous firths. Those photos are still in Sig Other’s camera.
Although the wildlife was largely in absentia, the sun was out and the beaches were as advertised with foamy surf and few other humans around.
However, I did achieve one goal of my trip and that was to find an old friend whose address I had lost in a long ago house move. I am quite proud of my amature detective efforts as I nipped into the public loos in Tain and asked the women guarding the facilities if they knew of my friend. Delightedly they said yes, and pointed me in her direction. (Tain is a small town.)
Even better, B seemed happy to see me despite the shock she must have had at me arriving out of the blue after some 14 years of silence. Kettles were boiled, high-speed gossip exchanged and I left with her contact details.
Although I felt some trepidation at boldly knocking on her door, I was reasonably confident of a welcome. We’d long ago agreed that as neither of us were any use at keeping in touch, that no matter how long it was, we’d pick up our friendship when we met again.
She said something rather touching … that “I carried a part of her past and she carried a part of mine”. We met in our first careers more than thirty years ago. This was a turbulent time for both of us professionally and personally, thus we were important supports to each other during these years. I no longer have anyone else in my life who knew the highs and lows and neither does she, so a renewal of our contact means some good/bad old stories can be dusted down and reappraised in the light of maturity and distance.
But this is also a reminder to me to trust in the bonds of real friendship no matter how stretched these might become.
Er, I’ll stop now as I suspect I'm beginning to channel Francis Gay's* column.
http://www.sundaypost.com/frangay.htm
*Another mythical beastie!
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