December 2015 Hogmanay in Dornoch

Day 0

Coming back from the Christmas break, I am told to repack very swiftly, as the next adventure starts the following day. Hm.

It turns out JS and I are taking the Caledonian Sleeper to Inverness. Okay...

The train goes from comfortably warm to rather chilly overnight, which wakes me up a few times. Also, a girl in the seat next to us is constantly sniffing and checking her phone. I am concerned for our health and annoyed by her behaviour. Get a life, wench.
Another annoyance: there is but one electrical socket for the whole carriage -- next to us. Tons of passengers cannot face one train journey without a phone and compete to charge it there, disrupting everyone else.

I notice we seem to stop a lot for stretches of up to two hours at a time. Comes a point in the middle of the night where, after two hours of no movement, we manage to advance 500 metres, then stop again for another hour. No explanation, no update. Nothing. Instead of worrying, I decide to try and get some kip. JS is sleeping tight.

Day 1

Later on, around the time we were supposed to be in Inverness, we arrive in Perth. There, we are finally told we will stay put for a while, because of the weather. Floods between there and Inverness have cut the track. No-one is certain when we will resume the journey, if at all.
Ultimately, we only spend fifteen minutes in Perth before moving ahead. The journey is slow and the spectacle is all but reassuring, though. Oftentimes, it looks as though the train were gliding on a loch. We are not talking about ten centimetres of water here and there, but several metres that have completely modified the landscape. I am reminded of the scenes of the Blue Lotus, where Tintin wants to go to Hou Kou and the train line is flooded. Only, it seems worse here.

This is a field

Pastures, full of cowfish

Against all odds and four hours behind schedule, we make it to Inverness. There, we discover with horror and relief that all other trains have been cancelled. Ours is the only train of the day to have made it through. That is what one calls a narrow escape!

JS has a mini-programme in Inverness before we continue to our destination -- which, at this point, is still unknown to me, must I repeat it? The programme includes: 1) finding the bus station and 2) grab a bite. 1) is executed swiftly, while we find where to do 2) during 1).
We enter a café/snack that employs socially-challenged, local youths to give them a chance. A great initiative.
The place is busy and it takes a while for our order to be taken, then even longer to be served. I worry we will miss our bus.

Welcome fuel

Sarnies

The fuel is very welcome, though. We both take the soup of the day and a sarnie. The staff is in no hurry to see us pay, which forces us to run for the bus. I am convinced we have missed it (next one is an hour later), but fortunately, the driver is not even there yet. A bit too tight for me all the same.
The driver advises us to take a day pass, as it is cheaper than a return ticket. Thanks, mate. We are not coming back today, though. It takes a while for the penny to drop and he is then perplexed as to what the best price is.
Anyway, we drive past Alness, Invergordon and Tain, which brings back lots of memories.

After ninety minutes, we reach our destination: Dornoch. The bus stops on The Square, almost directly in front of the Dornoch Castle Hotel. Ah! Now, the pieces of the puzzle come together.
We were recently told how good Dornoch Castle Hotel is when it comes to its whisky selection. It seems we are about to find out. \o/

Our base camp for a few days

Scouting the bar

We will be alright

We check in and settle in. JS takes a nap, while I go for a quick walk through town and scout the bar, before coming back for a shower and a shave. You have to admire a man who thinks of packing a razor and foam... but no after-shave lotion! I suppose I could buy some at the local pharmacy, yet I refuse to shell out for a commodity I have simply forgotten to bring along. Yet another bottle of lotion will take up space in my baggage, then in my cupboard, as well as cost more than it does at home. Fortunately, I have my hip flask. I will then smell of Ardmore 1978/1998 (46%, Cadenhead's Original Collection). I am disappointed that no-one spots it, once we get out of the room for the first session of the stay.

Day 2

A well-deserved breakfast awaits and it is traditional: grapefruit slices, prunes, then full Scottish. This should prepare us for the day ahead. JS has planned everything, you see.
We set on a hike alongside the (world famous) golf course to the nature reserve of Loch Fleet. The exact destination is Littleferry, to which there is no bus. And no ferry either -- it is one of those many places that probably used to have one, got rid of it decades ago, yet never bothered to change the name of the hamlet. In any case, Littleferry is around 15 km away and I have doubts we can get there and back during the course of the day -- which lasts for four or five hours, at this latitude and in this season. We shall see.

En route, our first spotting is a yellow hammer, rather nice, as I have never seen one before. Further on, we see a wren (or kinglet -- JS misses it), various breeds of ponies, a roe deer, curlews (they leave us wondering, since we are not carrying a book to identify them), mergansers (yay!), mallards, pochards, shellducks (those get JS all excited), a couple of herons, European geese, a kestrel, chaffinches, tits, oystercatchers, something that looks like a gull with a small, grey bill that makes me think of puffins in winter clothes and something with a small, red bill we cannot identify.

We spend a few moments on a parking space on the side of the road to speak with a couple of people, when we all spot common seals in the distance, very calm and clearly visible. The beautiful weather helps; the shy sun is warming us up a bit and gives good visibility. Lovely.

Here be ducks, believe me

Further on, we pass by the ruins of Skelbo farm, which looks like a castle. The sun is quickly setting, though and I start thinking about the return journey. I want to hitch a hike back to Dornoch, as another three-hour walk will not do: the temperature is dropping, as is the light.

14:12

I want to reach the main road (A9), thinking we will have more chances to be picked up. The A9 is as busy as in my memories (I cycled it to Wick in 2000), but is has no sidewalk, making it very unpleasant... and dangerous to walk along. I am starting to regret not going back the same way.
Suddenly, fifteen minutes into the walk, a van stops and picks us up: the driver wondered what those two idiots thought they were doing and took pity of us.

Entering the van is akin to walking into a volcano, so hot is the temperature. It is a company van for an upholstery company (and the boss is driving): Saggy Bottoms. The drive is a good laugh. We learn about the joys of glamping (glamorous camping, innit) and other trivia. He kindly drops us off in front of our hotel after a short drive... and it was not even his way.
In any case, we now have time for a dram or two before getting ready for tonight. It is a killer session indeed.

Day 3

We sleep in, today. The bar closed after 4 AM and some of the staff carried on partying much later; one even got locked outside and had to wake up the manager to get back in. Aouch. We were much more reasonable, yet going to bed at 2, after too big a meal, too many drams and lots of outdoor activities kind of crushed us. Not to mention we still have not fully recovered from the long journey up North.

We still plan to enjoy the breakfast (before supper is even digested), yet almost miss serving time. Slices of grapefruit, prunes, full Scottish without bacon. One has to be reasonable.

The Old Manse B&B

Today's programme is less ambitious and less set-in-stone. We want to hike South, to the woods. On the way, we spot more curlews, jackdaws, siskins, crows, blackbirds, sparrows, common tits and chaffinches. Nothing too special, I suppose, though it is always nice all the same. Soon, we come across coal tits, a red kite on a pole, a buzzard being chased away by a crow, then something I finally identify as a red-crested woodpecker. Excited we are.






The woods are home to a playground for children, prehistoric hut locations and other curiosities. What makes our day, however, is a firecrest, close enough to leave no doubt as to its identity, yet too shy to allow us to take its picture. Just around the corner, we see blue tits too. Needless to say we spend a lot of time watching the branches. We can hear goldcrests, yet never see them, unfortunately.
We come across a few locals and exchange wishes and words. I am so excited about the firecrest I want to tell everyone. They tell us about local foxes and how they stink up the whole forest. There is a vague fox smell indeed.

There is a firecrest here, somewhere

Some interesting street art

We slowly walk back to town and reach the hotel around 15:00. We have not touched our packed lunch today either. We force it down once in the room, in preparation for our third day dramming in a row.

Remember that an might be punished by a strong

Day 4

Kippers

A hearty breakfast sorts us out. We are not hungry, make no mistake -- it does set the cogs in motion, though, which is good to wake us up. Grapefruit, prunes, full Scottish for me (without bacon), while JS has kippers, today.

JS is not feeling well, so no real hike, today. We take a stroll around town and up the hill, see the lovely cathedral from the 13th century (rebuilt in the 19th), the old station (closed since 1960), visit the shops, miss the post office's opening times, then proceed back to hotel for more w.

Funky cushions in the cathedral

An interesting collection of stain-glass windows
with styles from different periods

Sutherland crest

Day 5

After breakfast (the usual), we have neither time nor desire to do anything, today. We check out, then spend the last few hours at the bar, waiting for the bus and generally feeling as miserable.as the weather: it is grey and wet, today.
I move away from the fire quickly, as I start to feel nauseous. I have clearly had too much to eat and drink for four days.
At the same time, it is not as if we could come here every day. That whisky is not going to drink itself. I give it my best shot and we have more drams.

The time has come to board the bus to Inverness. It is the express, this time, and an hour later, we are there. I ask JS to take care of my suitcase and quickly cross the street for air and solace. I feel very nauseous.
Once I manage to compose myself (I must look a bit awful, yet at least, I will not have bile breath for the whole journey back), we proceed to the waiting room. With our baggage, the dreary weather and our worse condition (JS has a cold, I am still not too fresh), there is no exploring Inverness.

We almost immediately regret taking the express bus, as it means we have four hours to kill before the train leaves. The local youth uses the station's waiting room as a place to hang out and the local addiction to mobile phones is as staggering as it is annoying (videos out loud and all). I am in no state to make a fuss, though. A bit of music and a book help us make the best out of the situation.

Due to flooding, the train is rerouted through Aberdeen. It is only supposed to take an additional two hours. We are glad to be able to go home at all, never mind the delay.

The train is very hot and it carries noisy children. We discover that the thermostat has two positions: 'on' and 'off'. 'Off' means ze chill, while 'on' means we roast to death. The journey is a repetitive game of asking the conductor to switch it back off.
Although the train calls only twice on the way, the journey takes forever. We reach London with the announced two-hour delay, yet it takes another hour to go from Camden to Euston. All the same, we are relieved to have made it, especially when we learn that the Aberdeen route has subsequently been cancelled too. Phew!