dom666's train is scheduled to arrive in London around 20:00, so the plan is to meet up in Euston, from where we all depart. JS texts me that the Caledonian Sleeper is delayed by over an hour. Great start.
At 19:00, dom666 gets in touch: his train is in at 19:15, not 20:15, as he thought. Different time zones, it would appear. Since he now has two -- no, three hours to kill, I tell him he can come to mine, if it makes more sense. I remind him the bus numbers and the stop name. He will find his way, he says.
Five minutes later, he calls. I am in the middle of cooking, I was interrupted two minutes ago by a guy trying to upgrade my broadband (on a 29th December, no less), I need to shave and shower and, with all the hoo-ha, I still have not packed my stuff. Good thing the train is delayed!
dom666 calls, then. He is outside the station and does not know where to go. "I just got out." There are a number of exits to that station; I ask him to be more precise. The next exchanges are pure comedy gold -- or would be, if I was not the main actor.
"There is a pharmacy."
"I can see a red phone booth."
"I am going down the street."
"No, no, it is not level."
"The cars are coming towards me."
"There is definitely no map at this bus stop."
"Oh! wait, there is a map on the other side of the bus stop."
Miraculously, he ends up finding the traffic lights, Kings Cross station, and the bus stop. I am now VERY late. Neck down supper, shave, shower, dom666 arrives ("I have been here twelve times alright. I just never paid attention to how to get here, because you always picked me up.") I throw a few things into my suitcases while dom666 drinks one of the last drops of G4.1 Mellow menthol. I rush everyone to the station. The train's departure might be delayed, but I would rather spend that delay in my berth, rather than stressing out at home.
The bus journey to Euston is uneventful, apart from dom666 blocking others from moving past him and not realising.
At the station, I take a quick glance at the indications to know the platform, and we make our way. Platform 1 it is. "The train is marked on time," I say. "I checked; it is definitely delayed," replies JS. Not willing to take any risk, I raise the pace. The train staff is on the platform: I make sure they see us. We charge towards them.
them: "Are you on this train?"
tOMoH: "Yes, to Inverness. Is it delayed?"
them: "No, it is on time."
We run to our carriage and make it on board with a whole minute to spare before the train departs. Phew.
The conductor/train manager/whatever his title shows us our cabins. One is open, and he opened the inside door to the second, in case we were a family, forcing us to all enter through the same cabin. I enter, then get out of mine to allow dom666 to get to his (space is very limited); he starts settling in mine. It takes him five minutes to understand that JS and I are stuck in the corridor until he proceeds to his cabin. I explain to the conductor we are dealing with a bloke who used a red phone box as a landmark to describe his position. In London. "I can see a red bus," adds the conductor with a big grin. We all laugh about it. dom666 is worried he forgot something, though he cannot figure out what. JS is miffed about the non-delay. She shows me the online message and the penny drops: the message reads that the Inverness-to-Euston train is delayed, but it says so on every page. JS had taken it to mean that the Euston-to-Inverness train was delayed. We are all on board, so it does not matter.
We all prepare for our respective beds and it is an uneventful journey from here on. Except for dom666 who cannot sleep at all, due to there being no power socket to plug his sleeping machine into.
Day 1
Inverness. It is snowing. I am rested. Life is good. JS woke up several times during the journey: she just came back from a long trip to the US and is jetlagged. dom666 has not slept. He suddenly remembers what he has forgotten: his dress trousers. He is travelling with a pair of jeans only. Bah. I note that, for the first time, I did not wake up to see Millburn on the way into the station.
We need breakfast. Café Artysans. The poor waiter is put to the test by a tired and almost inaudible dom666: his granola order is not acknowledged, and his tea has to be asked several times too. The food is good, though. This will remain our regular spot.
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| JS has eggs, black pudding and scone. No picture of dom666's and my breakfast |
From here, I walk to the city's outskirts to pick up the car. They tell me it is an automatic, which frustrates me. It is bad enough that one cannot rent a car without air conditioning, these days! They will explain everything there is to know, they say. Put your foot down. That is it. "I will say that to the cops, when they stop me. I will take your business card as well," I joke back.
Upon inspection, the guy realises he cannot unlock the car. Puzzled, he walks a couple of metres further... and realises he was looking at the wrong car all along! The one he does unlock looks the same, but it is a manual. Yay.
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| Fog line on the Black Isle |
I collect dom666 and JS, and off we go. As soon as we are over the Moray Firth bridge, the fog becomes pretty dense. Around the Black Isle, I can hardly see the cars in front of me. When we cross the Dornoch Firth, I cannot see the water under the bridge we are on. Spectacular. Lovely light and views (or lack thereof), but not the most comfortable, when driving an unfamiliar car.
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| The Dornoch Firth is there, somewhere |
We make it to Dornoch unscathed.
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| The view from the room |
We check in and drop off our bags. dom666 decides to go for a nap, completely wrecked as he is. JS and I go for a hike. Camore Woods, here we come! On the way, I note that Dornoch smells of diesel. Badly.
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| Lots of traffic, too. Last-minute prep for Hogmanay, no doubt! |
Just like two years ago, we stop every two metres to take in the scenery and the wildlife. A heron takes off under our noses, raptors of some kind (dark, spotted belly -- (honey) buzzard? Peregrine? Merlin?), a bullfinch (my first), redbreast robins, great tits, blue tits, goldfinches, a goldcrest in the forest... The woods are quiet-ish, snowy, slippery and treacherous. It is also very cold, and the sun, I know, will set around 15:30. We walk back for a shower before drams and dinner.
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| A quiet forest walk |
Day 2
Breakfast hits the spot, as usual.
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| Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for JS |
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| Full Scottish for dom666 and me |
Rain is forecast, today. Obviously, that affects our hiking plans. Instead of taking a risk and having to cut a hike short, we take the car northwest -- with the boots in the boot. Ullapool is our loose goal; more firmly, we want to drive around Loch Shin. Without a map, because I forgot to take it. On Loch Fleet, as we drive across the bridge, we spot eiders.
Lairg is easily reached, on a road far busier than I remembered it. It quickly turns quieter north of there. Snow is more omnipresent and the scenery becomes rather dramatic. Single-track lanes around the middle of the loch, hills, then mountains and a winding road.
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| 'orrible |
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| really 'orrible |
We come across a flock of whooper swans, who seem surprised to see us, and slightly startled at our observing them for a long time.
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| Whoop-whoop! |
Further on, we come head-to-head with three deers crossing the road (a male and two females). A little further, three more, a few metres from the road -- huge stags, this time.
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| Those two were on the road, a second ago |
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| Suitably camouflaged |
We approach Unapool when I realise that Ullapool is another one-hundred-kilometres away and we will not make it there (see where the confusion came from? Ullapool? Unapool? Yes?) Without a map, I first think we have taken the wrong road, but no: we are exactly where I wanted to be. It simply is further from Ullapool than I thought. Ah, well.
The Kylesku Bridge makes up for the confusion by providing spectacular views of the sea lochs. Loch Gleann Dubh and Loch a' Chaim Bhain, for the courageous reader who will want to try and pronounce the names of the places. :-)
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| You can simply watch, too |
A few kilometres to Inchnadamph and onto the road back to Lairg. Although, en route, and still unexpectedly, seeing as we have no map, we pass by Loch Assynt, where we stop. I have not seen Ardvreck Castle in almost twenty-five years, and I have wanted to come back for as long. It would be rude not to stop.
JS takes a few photographs, while dom666 and I change into hiking boots. dom666 sensibly tucks his trousers into his socks -- remember he only has one pair of trousers with him. Off we are, soon followed by JS.
The path to the castle looks very boggy. In order to avoid the largest puddles, we venture off path, onto a mound, and down onto the beach. Once I am there, I stop to see dom666 to safety (he has a weak knee) and, of course, the unavoidable happens: he slips, his glasses fall, he executes a remarkable pirouette, slips some more, and shows the world how much he likes Scotland by sitting on its muddy land. The trousers. Covered in it.
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| Seconds before the drama |
Diarrhea-coloured jeans for a gala dinner tonight, then. Because I am a bastard, I laugh like a motherfucker.
tOMoH: "Are you ok?"
dom666: "The only thing badly hurt is my self-esteem."
JS arrives as he gets up and admires the extent of the damage. His trousers are wrecked -- except for the lower part of the legs, which are nicely tucked into his socks and, therefore, well clean.
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| The prize |
We stroll around the castle, take in the gorgeous scenery, then climb back into the car.
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| Can you spell gawjus? |
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| The beach walk is safer. And cleaner |
The drive back across the desolated land is uneventful. We manage to refuel at a petrol station six minutes past their closing time, and arrive in Dornoch aroud 16:00, as the sun sets. We find a parking spot easily, grab a dram, give dom666's trousers for a wash, then head back to the bar without him: he is room-bound with no trousers, and a dram of Convalmore 1962.
Day 3
It was a short night. We make it to breakfast with a good resolution: take advantage of the bar as soon as possible! The waitress offers us bucks fizz, which I mishear as Buckfast -- bit early for that, innit. :-)
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| Bucks fizz, on the other hand... Totally acceptable! :-) |
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| Croissants and prunes, breakfast of champions... |
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| ...especially when rounded off by a full Scottish |
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| JS goes light, today |
We eat and proceed to the bar, where we spend most of our day.
Day 4
Early breakfast, today. We need to leave by 9:00, in order to return the car. Upon loading said car, I realise it is covered in half a centimetre of ice. Hm. I scrape the windshield with a plastic card and scratch my fingers. This might prove amusing. I move the car closer to the hotel entrance (a real challenge, when you cannot see a thing through the windshield and it is still pitch black) and that is precisely when everyone decides to drive through town. I am nervous, but make it without a scratch. Phew.
Back at the hotel to settle the bill and bid good bye. The receptionist brings me a bucket of warm water, which makes thawing the car effortless.
The drive is relaxed and brief enough. We spot a peregrine falcon gliding by the side of the road.
About two thirds in, I spot a crow feasting on a roadkill, in the distance. The scavenger seems unwilling to move, brave or foolish. I start flashing my headlights to scare it away, when it raises its head and looks at me defiantly. We are ten metres apart, now, and -- HOLY SHIT, IT'S NOT A CROW, IT'S A HUGE RAPTOR! I have no time to ask for its birth certificate, I am concerned I will hit it. It finally spreads its immense wings and takes off to the right of the car, dodging another, incoming vehicle. Had it chosen to fly to the left of ours, we would have hit it.
Slightly affected by the adrenaline rush, I carry on my course and land us in Inverness with no further incident. At the hiring agency, once the bloke has confirmed the good condition of the car, I tell him the story, which makes him laugh a lot. I laugh too, at this point. :-)
Our cab arrives within fifteen minutes to take us to the airport. We reach there swiftly, go through all checks in minutes and are in our terminal in no time. We buy some booze in the shop, board, and make it back to London hassle-free.
