You know, I didn't expect it, didn't hope for it, don't really need it. I would have been deeply satisfied even had it not come my way. It just wasn't going to make me happier, it's not really a thing in Scotland anyway.
I am, of course, referring to good weather.
And yet, here I am, waking up to a partly cloudy sky. A little cool, a little warm. No rain expected at all. No dramatic downpour to soak you unexpectedly, no misty skies covering peaks, just beautiful weather. Unbelievable! I am flummoxed by it! How do I even treat this kind of phenomenon? Do I owe it something special?
(out my window)
Well, let's start with breakfast. Minds clear, ideas take hold over a good meal, which today includes porridge with blueberry compote and scrambled eggs with asparagus and tomato.
(in the kitchen, they're baking bread for the day)
(outside, Lundies House gardens, against blue skies)
And as people come down and newcomers discuss possibilities with knowledgeable staff, I form a plan: I'll take the bike again, and I'll do the loop around the Kyle of Tongue.
There's an old single track road that weaves around it, crossing the Kyle when it is still a mountain stream and then linking up with the newer causeway and bridge that now takes the traffic passing through Tongue. This old road used to be the only way to head west along the coast and then, sometime in the 70s they built the new causeway and the old road was left behind. For a bikers this is a bonanza because you're not going to encounter many (any?) cars there. The terrain is wild, with only two, maybe three houses along the ten mile stretch. Peace prevails.
Let me take you on my ride. The whole loop is maybe twelve or thirteen miles, but it's a bit hilly, which of course is not a problem if you do this on an electric bike. It would take an average person 75 minutes to complete it. It took me two hours, merely because I stopped constantly to take pictures, and to smell the flowers (orchids again, and a whole lot more).
Here we go:
(at the foot of Ben Loyal)
(so many shades of green!)
(irises, revisited)
(Highland cattle)
(and always the sheep)
(I see you!)
(wild and beautiful)
(hilly road)
(one of the two big mountain streams that feed the Kyle)
(foxgloves everywhere!)
(and now the view opens up to the north and the Kyle of Tongue, and the sea)
((oh! the orchids are here! right at the side of the road!)
((maybe I should post a close-up, so that you can appreciate their immense beauty!)
(Back on the road again, looking behind me, with the tiny orchids at the side of the road)
(let me not neglect the heather, which, in a few more weeks, will be painting the hills with its vibrant color)
(an unusual sight: a dense forest... the deforestation of Scotland is a huge deal issue... you may, for example, read about it here)
(and now I am biking at the shores of the Kyle. Do you see the castle? It's the same one I view from my bedroom window, only from the other side...)
(the Kyle, emptying out to the sea, the fairly new causeway across it)
(back on the side of the village Tongue...)
(hi sheep! no, you cannot chew threw the fence...)
(the back of the Lundies House)
(very minimalist sign in the front tells you were it is...)
I came back totally content and a bit sleepy. I've yet to really catch up on rest. (Last night's late campfire didn't help! Who knew it was that late? It was still light outside!) So, a rest, followed by lunch...
And still the clouds looked puffy, and innocent, and dry, with strips of blue sky visible every now and then, which of course filled me with guilt because here I am in northern Scotland and it's not raining! Incomprehensible!
I sat in a comfy living room chair and contemplated my good fortune.
[The days have been just a little marred by a constant stream of phone calls from my mother, who knows I'm away, does not choose to acknowledge the time difference, and wants to share her woes with me anyway at all hours. I have finally turned off my phone. Indeed, I had wanted to be basically phone free the time I am in Scotland -- this has finally pushed me to do just that. I check voicemails to make sure no emergencies arise, otherwise I am pretending that I live in the days before cell phones ruined peace for us even as they do provide so many conveniences.]
And I do go for a walk -- up to Castle Varrich, because it's so visible from my bedroom window and I'm told that it offers good views. (It's about a 75 minute round-trip, so not too bad! of course, I pause along the way, so let's double that amount of time!)
(the views on the way are outstanding!)
(gettin' there...)
(mother and babe)
(getting closer...)
(the view toward the village of Tongue -- Lundies House is right in the middle of the picture...)
(view from the top -- that's the causeway cutting through the Kyle)
Not much is known about the castle's history. Once inhabited by the Clan Mackay, it may well be over 1000 years old. The walls are thick (like five feet thick!) and there were no stairs between the floors, suggesting that animals were once kept on the bottom and people ascended to the upper floors by ladder or removable stairs. That even these ruins are still standing, given the weather here, is a tribute to its solid foundation.
(the peak of the remaining tower)
(on the descent...)
On the way back I encounter a couple, looking toward the jagged peak of Ben Loyal, taking it in on this very unusual day.
It's incredible to see it so clearly! -- she tells me. Are you Scottish? -- I ask, curious if they are locals. Yes, but not from here. We live near Castle Mey. Up for a couple of days for a visit. (Castle Mey is 90 minutes east, along the northern coast.) A Scottish getaway. How lovely. I wave and continue on home.
And Marcello brings me a pot of tea and a freshly baked pastry.
And shortly after it is time for dinner.
I miss the SF pair of course, because they were solidly present in the living room for the hour before the meal and we'd all have negronis or martinis or whatever together. There is a new group of people: a Dutch pair, a Scottish couple from Edinburgh. One California couple remains, as does the pair from Belgium. I talk to each, individually, because this is what predinner drinks are all about. And I find that I'm not the only one that chooses travel routes, depending on what inns you may find along the way!
And at dinner time, I meet another person: one of the employees, whom I'd seen before, only I hadn't know that she, too, is Polish. Remarkable. She lives in Tongue now, with her British husband and their son. I have a ton of questions, of course, and she happily answers them, as she deftly works the tables and attends to everyone else's requests.
It's fascinating to me -- this blend of remote Scottish villages and those who come here for work, so often from Poland, looking for jobs, often finding them in fields way below their training (the other Polish person who works at Lundies is a certified dentist). Yet they like their work, they love the Scottish landscape and they try hard to fit into the communities that are so often tightly knit and probably a little apprehensive about any newcomers.
Today's dinner is fantastic! White asparagus, gilthead fish carpaccio (I'd never hear of gilthead! delicious), halibut. And dessert. Here's my dish of the day for you -- how about the halibut, with a crab croquette, and pickled asparagus spears?
Oh! You want something more colorful? Like maybe the dessert? There's a lot of apricot flavor in this:
Incredible food. Truly incredible.
An earlier bedtime is definitely warranted. And yet...
I want to take one last walk. Maybe just up the road? In the direction from which I came. A total innocent. New to this rugged coast. Understanding none of it.
Oh, I see drama in the sky. Over the castle.
I see the causeway, which I crossed twice by bike. Yesterday, today...
I see a deer. Hello, from your cousins in Wisconsin! You look older, more seasoned maybe?
Tomorrow I leave Tongue.
