The Old Man of Huy's key travels: January 2017

Day 1

JS, adc and I took the Caledonian Sleeper on the way up, and wake up this morning to find Scotland still in the dark. The journey was very quiet, this year, save for a loud woman on the phone for ten minutes, upon departure. No floods reported, no delay to speak of, nothing. I woke up several times during the night (the joys of reclining seats on a moving vehicle), but other than that, I slept almost throughout. JS and adc have berths and wake up fresh as daisies. Uneventful journey, yay.

Once in Inverness, we visit the Artysan café for breakfast, as we did last year: a mix of traditional Scottish goodies for us -- salmon on toast, sausages, black pudding, eggs, potatoes, ...
Come ten, we head back to the station to pick up the rental car. The arrangement, however, was to collect it from the office, as I find out on the phone. They kindly send someone to the station to collect us and bring us to the office, which is, ooooh! a good half a km away.

The drive North is, again, uneventful, despite the road being more crowded than I would like it to be. A9 traffic in full action.

JS mans the map and sends us into uncharted territory to see Ballone Castle. It is now a hotel, but when the map was printed, it used to be ruins. In any case, it turns out to be inaccessible -- or rather: we never find how to get there.
All the same, the drive takes us through the lovely Portmahomack, a quiet fishing village where we buy stamps. We decide against Tarbat Ness, as it is a two-hour walk we are not equipped for. Instead, we stop at the Tarbat Discovery Centre, a church on the site of a Pictish monastery. Interesting. There is an old baptism font described as "clogged by the weeds of myth," which amuses me a lot.

Leaving Portmahomack, we continue towards our destination through what is now a well-known scenery: Alness, Invergordon and Tain. So well-known, in fact, that we fail to see Teaninich and Dalmore (it was so easy on foot!) We do stop at Invergordon, though; adc's first grain distillery. She is struck by the scale of the site and how unromantic it is.

In Tain, Glenmorangie is shut, of course, yet we we stop for pictures. Several cars do the same, which makes me wonder why it is closed and why its being closed is not more clearly indicated.

It is not long after that that we arrive in Dornoch. Finding a parking space was what I was most worried about, but once there, it turns out to be very simple indeed; right in front of the bus shelter.
We explore the town and buy postcards. Many Frenchmen in the tea houses make me hope I did not too enthusiastically unveil a best-kept secret, last year, yet Dornoch later turns out to be a passing place for them: they do not stay at the hotel, or spend Hogmanay here.

I can see your halo

The cathedral is still nice and quiet, yet much colder than last year. Dornoch Jail is still overpriced and full of tourists, but next door, a new shop is now open: Carnegie Whisky Cellars. A visit is required, of course. The manager looks familiar and, indeed, we have met him at Royal Mile Whiskies. He invites us to a tasting the following evening, yet it takes place during the feast, unfortunately. We will not make it. We do however try a couple of interesting drams, thanks.

The hotel, seen from the garden

The time has come to check into the hotel and raid the bar, where adc will receive a present and a cake, courtesy of Dornoch staff.

Day 2

Smoked salmon and eggs

Full Scottish

The weather is miserable. Our hiking plans go out the window. Instead, we drive to Loch Fleet. We walked there, last year, but we could not see the North side, as it was too far away. The catch is that one has to drive to Golspie, then South to Littleferry. That would easily be a full day of walking, so a car is convenient.
In Littleferry, we walk a short loop into the nature reserve and spot several wonders: oystercatchers, curlews, a heron that keeps flying away from us, fifty metres at a time, shags, seals, resting on the other shore.

It is only a short while before we drive back to Golspie, due to the pesky rain. Since we are so close, we venture to Brora, with not the slightest hope that Clynelish and Brora will be open. They should be there for pictures, though.
Annoyingly, the site is closed and fenced off for refurbishments, which shows on the photographs.

Diageo: removing asbestos since 1997

A tanker of Brora, waiting for us to lift and tow :-)

A stop at the Sutherland Inn seems like a good idea. Last time we were here, they had a cracking whisky selection. Well, not any longer. It has turned into a regular bar without interest, where the best we can get are Balblair 2003 and Clynelish 14 (and of course they are nice, simply not very unique).
Following BA's recommendation from the latest tasting, we pay Capaldi's a visit for an ice cream: it is decent indeed. The current weather might not make it shine to its fullest potential, however.

We want to drive back to visit Dornoch distillery, but still want to make the best out of a rainy day and decide to take the scenic route alongside River-turned-Loch Brora. It is breathtakingly scenic, wild and quiet... and also occasionally moist.

Emphasis on 'occasionally'

I point out at some point that the level of the river is no more than fifty centimetres below that of the road. Not a minute later, the road disappears under the water. At a glance, thirty or so centimetres. Inspired by the Colin McRaes of this world, I drive through without a hiccough.

Brave, me.

A few hundreds of metres further on, more water: forty centimetres, give or take. Let us give it a go. It goes fine, though of course, I am rather nervous about it, this time.

BANZAAAAAAAAAIII!

There is a bridge to cross the now tumultuous river. Surely the road down the hill is nearby...
The third flooded stretch of the road, right after the bridge, is the one we dare not pass. With an estimated sixty centimetres of torrential water completely drowning the road, it goes without saying our Toyota Aygo is not equipped.

That matte black Land Rover Defender would come in handy, here.
As would a kayak.

We have to turn back, drive through the first two puddles again, back to Brora and into Dornoch, where we missed our chance for a distillery tour. Ah well, there is plenty to do tonight to keep us entertained.

Day 3

Poached eggs every day, this year

At the crack of dawn (around 11 o'clock -- it was a short night, you know), we set off alongside the links to Embo and Loch Fleet -- on foot, this time, since the weather is much more cooperative. It is a lot less cold than it was last year, but much more humid, which makes it less comfortable. A local tradition is a midday swim in the firth, which seems like a fun, yet terrible idea. In any case, we are not in swimming trunks (or mood), today!

It is windy!

The waves are strong!

Also, we are not autherised!

"Have you got any of that whisky left in your flask?"

We spot various ducks, a widgeon, and a seal. With about 30 minutes of daylight left today, we have to turn back before we even reach the loch, unfortunately, though not before we meet a flock of yellowhammers and several horses, who are too posh to come greet us. The only species we take pictures of, however, are sheep.