The other morning as the other half and I batted around options for where to walk, an idea came to me. It was born partly out of curiosity, partly inspiration, and partly the drive to become more fit this year: I want to walk the Fife Coastal Path.
Not, as some do, in a few days or as some endurance feat, but broken up into manageable chunks that will grow longer as I become more fit. I want to start with small bits and move up to the longer stretches. I know weather will prevent walking every weekend, I’ll be travelling, and there are plenty of things to hold me back, but the only one I’ll really disappoint should I not manage this is myself. There are some incredibly fit and determined people I know who have run the path, or walked it in a few days, but I’m not nearly ready to attempt that; so I’ll do it the way I know how.
Here goes.
Stats:
The Fife Coastal Path runs from Kincardine around the edge of Fife to Newburgh. A while ago a purchased a fold-out map which suggests large segments of the walk, but also includes every mile count along the way.
This map is taken from the Fife Coastal Path fold-out map, and not my own.
Using this mile count, I’ve divided the nearly 117 miles into roughly 28 segments of my own, of reasonable length – some short, 2-3 miles, and some quite a bit longer. A good portion of the path passes regularly through towns – especially along the south – but as the route curves up the east coast and along the north, the path segments get a bit, or a lot, longer. So I’m not going to do this in order, but I’ll start off with the shorter bits and attempt the longer ones when I feel more prepared and the weather is better.
I’ve also got some serious logistics to plan, assuming the other half will accompany me: how to we get to various points, and if we’re walking in one direction, how do we get back to our car? I foresee that public transport will be playing a massive role, and we’re lucky that transport in Fife is pretty good. There’s also the issue that the Kincardine end of the trail is a good 60 minute journey from here by car, so I’m not certain when that will happen. But happen it shall, especially as the days are growing steadily longer and brighter, it will be easier to take day trips.
Finally, naturally, I will of course be sharing my progress and documenting it along the way. I’ve got my countdown clock running, and I’m determined to get this done by 31 January 2026.
Here we go!
Part 1 – Newburgh
It was a grey, damp weekend, typical of many at this time of year, when it’s cold but not freezing and not quite raining but still muddy. So, I decided that it was time to start this trail at the beginning (or end, depending on how you view it). So, we braved the two sets of road works to drive to Newburgh, and park at one end of the coastal path.
Newburgh is an old burgh, granted royal burgh status in 1266. It is less than two miles from the nearby Lindores Abbey, which is now in ruins next to the distillery – see later in the post. The town boasted several industries including fishing and the making of nets, linen, linoleum and oilskin fabric. It saw some growth after the Second World War, though most industries had closed down by the first part of this century. The high street offers a mix of Edwardian and Victorian structures – plus some far older – along with some newer blocks. There are a few shops and cafés; we stopped for a post-walk coffee and scone at Café de Kathy, which was quiet but made a good Americano.
The start of the Coastal Path is served by a good-sized car park and is marked (as you can see in these photos) by an arch which makes a good selfie spot. There is also a small plaque showing you the first 10 miles or so of the path – evidence of why I am not attempting much of the north-Fife portion first.
Around the arch is a lovely park with picnic benches and plenty of grass for animals and children to frolic (even in the wet there were dog-walkers a plenty). The well-kept path winds down through the park towards the distant Tay; resist any urge to turn right along the ridge, and eventually you will make your way gently down the slope and finally turn right along a play park, heading for a break in the stone wall. Beyond the wall is the village, but the Coastal Path is very well marked so easy to follow.
Go straight along the street and you will find a left-hand turn with a soon-to-be familiar arrow and coastal path logo. Once you reach the water’s edge, turn right and follow the path as it skirts the edge of the village between the houses and the River Tay. This is generally a quite easy portion of the walk – flat, well-kept, a bit muddy in places but clearly well-used. You will pass through several parks, and a number of different architecture styles including some newer post-war constructions, but many older 1800s-style Scottish dark grey stone houses that are familiar in most coastal towns. The view over the Tay can be very clear, and on the day we walked was almost as still as glass.
Small fishing boats and dinghies are tied to the small stone quays, and water fowl of various kinds swim in and out – mostly ducks and cormorants not scared away by the dogs.
In about ten minutes you start to reach the far edge of the town, passing through another park. Ahead you will start to notice boats – a few catamarans and smaller sailing vessels – stored on the right-hand side of the path, as on the left you will soon pass the Newburgh Sailing club, a building that could easily be mistaken for a Coast Guard lookout.
Soon after, you leave the town behind and find yourself with a field on one side, and tall reeds on the other, with water beyond. The path continues to be level and well-kept. Turning around, you are welcomed by a view back over the Tay towards Perth and distant hills.
After about five minutes or so, the trail curves around to the right, heading inland along a gentle burn lined with reeds. We noticed a sadly sunken sailing dinghy not far from the edge of the river. Continuing inland, you will begin to notice a group of lovely steading houses peeking over the brush, all old stone with terraced gardens.
Presently a bridge appears, but the path clearly directs you not to cross but instead to continue towards the road ahead, passing the steading and a beautifully preserved old mill building.
At this point you will meet the road, with the coastal path heading off to the left. This is about 1.4 miles from the starting arch, and here you can either continue on your way or, if you are feeling less energetic, you can turn right and head back into Newburgh to complete a loop.
The dreary weather and a few niggling pains drove us in that direction this weekend – the aptly named Abbey Road takes you past the ruins of Lindores Abbey (I must return here in better weather) and the Lindores Abbey Distillery, immediately across the street (this appears to have a very nice-looking visitor centre, but was not open).
From here it only remains to join the high street and make your way past the shops and interesting mix of houses, including a beautiful old inn (Abbey Inn).
This whole loop is about 2.5 miles, quite gentle and easy-going. It was the perfect start to my Fife Coastal Path adventure – I am excited to try again next weekend (weather permitting – so far this week is appalling).
At the end of my Thailand trip, I spent three days in the northern city of Chiang Mai. I had perhaps less idea of what to expect from Chiang Mai than I had of Bangkok, but I was excited to see what it might hold, and the fight was a leisurely 1 hour, leaving at a reasonably mid-morning time of day.
Thai Airways was very pleasant – if the planes were on the older side – with impeccably polite staff and a good snack of a Thai tea-flavoured milk bun, gloriously soft and a touch sweet. I had only discovered the deliciousness that is Thai tea the day before at an event – a new favourite.
I looked out the plane window as they announced we were 15 minutes from landing and realised that the air was much clearer than it had been in Bangkok, and I could see mountains not far off. It reminded me, in some ways, of Puerto Rico; flat land leading to verdant mountains, foliage and similar houses. But then, in the distance, I noticed something rising from the ridge of the mountain. I wasn’t sure what it was – a radio tower perhaps? Then we got closer and closer, and the form of a person was evident – a gold one. Not a radio tower, but a temple, with an enormous statue that stood out against the trees. Nearby, another one. I started to smile.
Sure enough, it took me no time at all to fall in love with Chiang Mai. I’m not sure if it was the similarity in size to many cities I love closer to home – the population is 1.2 million, not far off Edinburgh, greater Boston, or Leeds – allowing for a metropolitan feel that is still far less hectic than big cities like Bangkok, London and New York. Or perhaps it was that combined with the sheer beauty of the city, and of its history, so evident on almost any street corner.
The airport is on the small side, the way I remember Edinburgh being twenty-five years ago, and it was easy to arrange a Grab to my hotel. I was considerably more awake for this airport transfer than I had been in Bangkok, and so I happily stared out the window at the city that was both modern in its bundles of wires, concrete structures, and many cars, but also historic in its moat, temples, and detailed adornment to shrines and the simplest light posts and garden walls.
Chiang Mai, as I learned, is the second-largest city in Thailand, though the portion I visited felt considerably smaller – I clearly missed quite a bit. It was founded in 1296, and fortified with a town wall – some of which still exists – as well as the almost square moat. I confess myself to being quite ignorant of Thai history, but learned that this area of northern Thailand was part of the Lan Na Kingdom for what in Euro-centric terms is considered the Middle Ages and early modern period. Chiang Mai became capital of Lan Na under its first king, Mangrai (c. 1238 – 1311).
My hotel, which was absolutely beautiful, was in the Nimman area, a bit north and west of the moat, immediately across from several large shopping centres. The hotel rooftop, which I discovered on my first night, provided a view over the city in every direction and towards the mountains.
The evening was still warm but a gentle breeze kept the temperature very comfortable, and the hotel staff were happy to bring me a gin and tonic. It was the perfect way to end my day, as you will see.
On my first day in Chiang Mai, my work meetings finished in time to allow me to explore. I started off in the centre of the square old city and walked up one of the main roads towards the bridge I had determined to cross. The walk passed by a series of temples from which I could hear chanting, as well as numerous shops. The ubiquitous Thai mopeds were everywhere, and while the heat was intense, it was just comfortable enough to allow for a gentle walk. This would not be possible, I later discovered, in the more modern parts of city where the sidewalk frequently disappeared completely.
Upon reaching the city moat, I decided first to turn right and walk a short distance along to a footbridge rather than cross the car bridge. In no time at all, I came across my first proper temple – Wat Rajamontean. I did not go inside, as I could hear an active service of some kind. As you can see below, there was a set of steps leading up from the street and framed with dragons and figures of all kinds. Just along the road was Wat Khan Khama, and this excellent set of gilded horse statues.
It was frustrating for me as a historian, not to be able to learn more about the temples as I visited/passed them, but the informational plaques were of course in Thai. I have since done a bit of research which indicates that this region was a hub for keeping horses, hence the row of sculptures above. It also appears that ‘Rajamontean’ denotes ‘royal monastery’ and that the Wat contains an impressive library.
My primary goal for this walk was Wat Lok Moli. While it is not known exactly when the temple was built (the foundation in fact a great mystery), it was mentioned in charters by the mid-14th century. The two structures, the chedi (the taller pointed structure) and the vihara (assembly hall, in the foreground) were both commissioned in the first half of the sixteenth century, and the ashes of some of the royal dynasty were placed here.
To access it, I had to cross the city moat, with the ideal spot being this beautiful footbridge. Not just beautiful though it was also treacherous, with several holes – covered in chicken wire – looking down at the water. I would not have crossed had not seen someone else on it a moment before, thought I did pass an older Thai man as I reached the far side, who grinned toothlessly at me and warned me to be careful.
On the far side of the moat was a busy street but I managed to find a pedestrian crossing – not the easiest task – and scampered across with a few other tourists. A brick wall marks the enclosure, and the entrance to the Wat is through a splendid arch, guarded by a red statue.
Through the arch, one was confronted immediately with the splendour of two massive elephant statues, and the intricately carved face of the temple, flanked by white dragons.
I did take off my shoes and make my way into the temple, but as there were some monks speaking to followers, I felt awkward staying and did not want to take a picture within the temple – the same reticence I feel taking pictures of active churches, though I usually get past that…
Around the back of the temple was more carving, each panel a story of history or religious tale – I assume.
From here I moved back towards the chedi – commissioned in 1527 – in front of which was a display of beautiful coloured lanterns.
I walked around the whole Chedi and found that there were different statues on each side, plus some more shrines. If there is one thing that struck me about this temple it really was its intricacy and detail; the carving was exquisite, and each part of the complex had its own story. There were countless smaller shrines, carvings and statues to see, as well as the more open compound itself. Though it was busy with tourists, everyone was more or less quiet and respectful of the active religious site.
These happy statues just made my day.
The temperature and my excitement meant that by this point, my phone was actually starting to overheat; it was time to put it in my bag, away from my body heat, and head back to the hotel. I had the route planned out, but learned before long that my idea of ‘I’ll just walk up that road’ was not as simple in Chiang Mai.
To start with, I crossed back to the moat side of the road, where there was a path along the water. Growing tree routes had forced some of the tiles to buckle upwards, meaning the walk took some attention, but the trees meant shade, which I craved. I recall thinking that in a European city there would be a fence along the water, but not here, and around the corner, the street level rose enough that there was a drop of perhaps a foot or two from the path to the moat.
The corner, which I reached after 5-10 minutes of trying to resist taking pictures of the moat, is called Hua Lin corner. It is the location of a former aqueduct, bringing water from the Huai Kaeo brook over the moat and into the city. Today, there is a small garden and some seats where one can rest briefly, and look across the water at the remains of the city wall and bastion.
I had planned, at this corner, to cross the road and head north-west towards my hotel. Unfortunately, there was no pedestrian crossing and the traffic was coming far too quickly to try a Bostonian mad dash. I should mention that the driving in Thailand is nothing short of terrifying – the cars and mopeds are right at the edge of the road, so when you are a pedestrian they come within inches, or closer, of clipping you. The ring road that runs around the moat is several lanes in either direction, with cars speeding confidently along. So, I turned left along the moat and figured I would find a place before too long to cross. I was incorrect.
It was the better part of ten minutes that I walked along, enjoying the water lillies that were omnipresent in this part of the moat, and getting warmer as I went – and thirstier. I had water with me but it was almost hot enough to make tea after my hour or so walking around, and I was watching Google maps trying to work out a different route back to my hotel than I had planned. The further I walked – in the wrong direction – the longer I would spend in the sun and heat, in a city where most people clearly did not walk. So I did the next most sensible thing.
I gave up.
There was eventually a pedestrian crossing which allowed me to get across to the far side of the road, and I turned back the way I had come, only to discover that the sidewalk vanished. There was absolutely no safety in walking along the road, but there was a haven where I could wait in the cool, drink some iced tea, and call for a Grab – Starbucks!
I am not proud of reverting to an American stereotype, but it certainly worked. Half an hour later, I was back in my hotel enjoying a shower and two bottles of nice chilled water.
My final exploration of Chiang Mai was investigating One Nimman, the shopping centre across from the hotel. It reminded me slightly of Quincy Market in Boston in terms of architecture, and the shops were perfectly touristy, just what I needed to round out my Thailand gifts for home. The central square was a large open air street food market, while around the edges of the complex were a series of craft stalls. Clearly a high-end market area, One Nimman also offered plenty of health-related shops where wellness was a priority – massage, facials, and much more.
It was a fleeting time in Chiang Mai, but I have determined I will go back – with my proper camera and a plan to visit the mountain temples and the elephant sanctuary. So much still to see! The people were very friendly and while there are certainly western tourists present, there were plenty of more local visitors as well, providing a really pleasant atmosphere. I feel like I have only scratched the surface of what there is to see here. But, it was the end of a long month of travel and I was ready to head back home, flying Chiang Mai to Bangkok to Doha to the UK.
It was the middle of the night when I passed through Doha, but I was happy to have a travelling companion who I had met in Bangkok, worked in the same field, and had the same flights booked home. Together we were determined to see the famed indoor tropical garden of Hamad International Airport, Orchard. So we walked for what felt like hours but was about 20 minutes, and were delighted to find ourselves entirely un-disappointed. Orchard is not particularly large but it is markedly cooler than anywhere else, with the foliage providing a fresh feel to the air, and a palpable sense of relaxation. Particularly in the middle of the night, it was so relaxing to stroll along the paths and find a place to sit and relax. If anyone is passing through and have the time, I would absolutely recommend making the detour to see this indoor wonder.
Words cannot express how fortunate I feel to have been able to take this trip, and experience a part of the world I had never seen before. It has opened up my travel horizons much further, and I hope that the next time I return it is either not for work, or I can take more time to enjoy it. And that I am a bit less asleep…
Finally, I leave you with my favourite picture from Thailand, a combination of modern and medieval that I just love:
If you want to see more of the river boat cruise and a bit of Chiang Mai, check out this short video:
In October, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to visit Thailand for work. It was a gruelling 10 days, but I was able to see a bit of the two cities I was based in: Bangkok and Chiang Mai. In fact, I saw just enough to make me want to return with a lot more time to explore! And, I took part in a few once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Thailand had never been particularly high up my list of places to visit, but this trip taught me that almost any location can surprise you.
Disclaimer: if you’re looking for a post full of tourist information, this won’t be it – but it is a taster, a glimpse, of what I hope will be more to come.
To start with, Bangkok. I flew via Doha on Qatar Airways, and found the process quite straight-forward. I had a work visa which the customs official was happy with, and after a long wait for luggage I was greeted by a very kind man who took me to a waiting airport transfer. I used Grab (South-East Asia’s Uber) for most of my travel, but to and from the airport opted for a hotel ‘limo’ which was a bit more expensive but very comfortable. The car was air-conditioned and provided free bottles of water, and I had no intention of trying to drive in Bangkok.
Edinburgh’s three Forth bridges
Almost from the start I found myself enjoying Bangkok even more than I expected. I loved the odd jumble of modern architecture alongside old temples, very much an Asian feel but with some European influence. Here is the one picture I managed to take from the car ride:
I arrived in my hotel after 20 or so hours of travel during which I had not slept. All the hotel staff in Thailand are very solicitous and kind, informing me upon my arrival that there would shortly be an emergency text in the hotel. They assured me that I did not need to evacuate, but that it would be loud. Excellent news when I was desperate for a nap. Fortunately my room was lovely, with a huge walk-in shower that reminded me of those one finds a lot in Puerto Rico – more of a square stone chamber than a shower, with glorious hot water. I managed a quick shower before the alerts began – certainly loud, in a mix of Thai and English, and continuing for about 10 minutes. In this time, I managed to snap a few pictures of the view from my room and the window at the end of the hall, downed one of the several bottles of water they provide in the room, and climbed into bed.
Throughout my stay I found myself fascinated by the view across the city – the combination of architectural styles and open green areas, as well as the BTS sky train cutting through the buildings.
Side note on the sky train – is is incredibly efficient and easy to use, and once I tagged along with a colleague on one ride was confident doing it myself. When Grab taxis were occasionally hard to find or would leave you stuck in endless Bangkok traffic, the train was a speedy alternative. BTS stations in the city centre are raised at least one level above the street and often have small shops that sell snacks, as well as a direct entrance into the nearest hotel, mall, or public building. Very efficient and safe.
As I explored the city over the next few days, travelling to and from work events, it was so interesting to see spectacular views, like the on from the St Regis hotel where we had an event, to a small side-street lined with mopeds and shops. In front of many buildings, both hotels, shops and even auto mechanics were often stunningly intricate shrines, gilded and carved.
Close to my hotel were an incredibly well-stocked pharmacy – I managed to pick up some extra Vitamin C and Zinc tablets upon which I rely when travelling – and a 7-Eleven that offered the usual snacks, drinks, and some toiletry items as well as toasties and sandwiches which they would warm up for you. Most of the snacks were almost entirely labelled in Thai, but I managed to work out a few flavours and picked up some goodies to bring home for the other half. On one long night, a cheese toastie from this 7-Eleven was my slightly pathetic but incredibly tasty dinner.
Another spectacular part of the trip was of course the food (cheese toast included). I was travelling with a colleague to take part in a massive educational fair, located in one of Bangkok’s many convention centres, the Siam Paragon. The Paragon is also a mall – one of the fanciest malls I have ever seen, with floor after floor of ultra-modern shops. Some were tech-based with adjacent pods for people to record social media segments, others were high-end retailers like Gucci, Prada, Balenciaga and so forth. After one quick wander through, I realised it would definitely not be the spot for souvenirs!
But on the bottom level of the mall, which we eventually reached after making our way down numerous escalators, was a spectacular food court, bigger than any I have ever seen. It had American staples like Burger King and Pizza Hut but also every selection of Asian cuisine one could wish for, often specialised to one or two dishes.
After a long day it was a touch intimidating, but we managed to find a restaurant that would allow us to sit away from the crowds a bit. While it may be unimaginative, I ordered pad thai, which I love, as well as deep-fried basil calamari and a blueberry smoothie. To the last bite and sip, it was phenomenal. A similar meal in the UK would have cost probably four to five times as much, and never could have been as good.
By far the most memorable time I spent in Bangkok was on an evening river cruise arranged by one of the companies we worked with. Leaving from River City in Bangkok, the cruise offered open-air dining (yes, mosquito and other biting pest repellent was recommended), live music, and an exhibition of traditional Thai dance as we cruised up the river, under bridges and past temples and the Grand Palace. Very memorable (see the below video) were two bridges through which we passed that were so low – or the water was so high – that we were asked to stay seated to avoid injury. Sure enough, the boat JUST squeaked under, with a foot or two to spare.
It was stunningly beautiful at night, and provided views both of the modern Bangkok skyline but also its past, with the historic buildings lit up at night. The trip was incredibly smooth – you would hardly know you were on water – and I spent most of it completely in awe.
After the cruise, some of us were invited for one last cocktail at the rooftop bar of a colleague’s hotel – it is quite common for events such as these for many institutions to have representatives present, and there is an excellent community of people who travel together, support, work, and relax a bit together when time allows.
Though I suffer from a fear of heights and the view required me to walk up quite close to the edge of the building – a shoulder-height glass panel was all that separated us from plunging to the ground below – I admitted the view was worth the racing heart:
In fact, this night was one of my favourite times in Bangkok. I was reliably informed by a colleague who had been in Thailand frequently that the park one can see on the left of the photo has ponds with alligators in them – a good reason not to walk home.
The view from the nearby BTS station was equally excellent, if a bit less challenging for the acrophobic amongst us.
There is so much I did not have time to do in Bangkok, like visit the Grand Palace, get a proper Thai massage, walk through the parks, visit some of the markets, and actually see the temples up close. But, I was not there on holiday, and for a work trip I saw a great deal and got a feel for the city, just enough to make me want to see a lot more.
Not a small part of my lack of adventurous nature came down to jet lag – I had travelled back to the UK from California only a few days before I flew to Bangkok, and my first week there was one of the more exhausting of my life. I could not sleep at night, but my body definitely wanted to sleep around mid-afternoon, a problem for work events. The humidity and heat did not really help. By the end of my first week I was starting to adjust, in time for my next adventure to Chiang Mai – the topic of my next post!
If you want to see more of the river boat cruise and a bit of Chiang Mai, check out this short video:
I have been wracking my brain for days on what next to write about, but my creative juices are running a touch low after weeks – months – of work travel. Finally I thought of this post – throughout the year, wherever I am and no matter how tired I am, taking pictures of the beauty around me has kept me centred. And so in this post, I would like to share with you MY favourite pictures that I have taken this year, and a bit of why they are special to me.
This picture was taken on one of my favourite days all year, when I got up early after a snowstorm to wander Marblehead as the sun rose. I wrote a whole post about this day – so serene and stunning, it remains one of the best days of the year.
Boston coffee at its best. Most people are Dunkin’ people or Starbucks people. Whether they are next to each other or across the street, they almost always offer you the chance to choose between them, in Boston anyway.
Me? Cold brew Dunkin’, even in the depths of winter.
Next Stop Wonderland was a movie, and when I started riding the subways regularly in the 90s, was still announced by the driver. So, usually was, ‘Nexxop, Wondaland’
I love this picture of the light glistening off ice starting to drip from the tree branches as the sun began to warm the world after a day and night of snow. I sat under this tree watching for some time, until I was dripped on.
February started as a month of new beginnings, with a new job for me. This picture was taken at the end of a day in week three, as the sun set down Perth Road. Hard to beat a good winter sunset.
Speaking of sunsets, here’s another, one of my favourite nearby views including the old rail bridge and the River Eden.
And to counter the previous two, a sunrise – specifically the sun rising over St Andrews, a view I have captured 100s of times but never tire of, especially on a golden morning like this one. February was a rough month for us, but mornings like this one helped.
One Saturday in March I took a late morning walk on East Sands, and it was a gorgeous sunny day at low tide. It is hard not to love this view of St Andrews.
My morning walks in spring are often joined by the local small family of deer. I like to think that they get used to me and are less afraid of the woman in a purple coat who is always taking pictures.
The deer on this morning were so completely un-bothered by me.
Most of April was consumed with work, but I did my best to get out for an evening stroll whenever I could. I loved this one daffodil standing up against the setting sun.
Early in May, I took myself on a solo adventure to Castle Campbell. This stunning blue sky against the Ochils just filled me with joy.
Out of work for the month of May, I found myself free to have the occasional Friday evening pint at our local haunt. What a spectacular evening view. Though I do have a thing for bridges.
A hiking trip in support of the Step Count Challenge took some friends and I to the Hermitage, in Perthshire. It does not get much more fairytale-perfect.
Another day trip found me in Kenmore; I just cannot take enough pictures of this bridge, but this one with the distant loch and mountains peeking through is one of my favourites.
We also travelled south to visit friends for Eurovision weekend. As always when we visit Romsey, we went on a long walk through the medieval parts of the town, where the gardens are always stunning. Many happy memories.
Driving back from Oban, we enjoyed a day of almost perfect weather. We stopped at the Stalker View café and this perfect view awaited us. I love the hint of rhododendron in the corner.
While I have hundreds of pictures of this view, this one reminds me of a very special day – the end of final exams celebration for a student I worked with for years. She fought long and hard to get to this day, and I was so proud to see her soaking wet and grinning. (a St Andrews tradition)
We had a near perfect day in Oban when we first arrived – stunning blue sky and bright sun. This picture seems to cover it all – the monument on the hill, the harbour and the distillery and high street.
I positively fell in love with the rock-lined sandy beaches of Mull. How could you not?
This was our lunch view, looking over clear water with bobbing sailboats reminiscent of the Caribbean. But on Iona. Reminds me of a peaceful and moving day on the ancient isle.
June in Scotland is all about flowers. These lightly pink blossoms line the streets and woodland paths, and I love them.
One day in June, I sat in my in-laws’ garden and took pictures of the birds. Their garden is always full of feeders and birds of every kind, and this photo in particular is in memory of my father-in-law.
July was the first month of travel with my new job, and I found that I really loved the city of Toronto. This picture seemed to encompass both the old and new feels of the city.
The V&A Museum in Dundee held a fascinating exhibit on kimono, both old styles and new. It was beautifully presented, and I loved this mirrored display.
The pinnacle of summer in St Andrews is the Lammas Market. Held on the last weekend before kids return to school, a fun fair fills the streets of the town in an event that is somehow both very modern and incredibly ancient in feel. I have always been fascinated by the juxtaposition of old stone buildings and bright garish rides.
I travelled a lot in September, starting off with a trip home – I had not been home in September in many years and I almost forgot how beautiful late summer in New England can be. Almost. And of course this view is one of the best in Marblehead.
This was also my first 9/11 in the US since 2001. It was incredibly moving for me to be in a school on that day and learn how the teachers were ensuring the next generation remembered the day with the same poignancy as those who lived through it.
One evening, I drove from Houston to Dallas. It was a great drive and I loved this totally deserted rest area where I stopped for a short break. No question I was in Texas.
In the otherwise rather standard hotel I stayed in, they offered Texas-shaped waffles on a Sunday morning. The epitome of Texas and the US. Made me so very happy.
I love a good churchyard, and this one in Dunvegan on Skye was both old and beautifully kept.
Sunset on Skye. Seldom gets better, and this will always remind me of the little cottage in which we stayed, overlooking the fields and water.
On this stunning clear night, I stood outside with my camera for almost an hour playing with settings until I managed to get them just right. Sheep in the nearby field were baaing their impatience with me, but otherwise it was totally silent and peaceful. Heaven.
It is always nice when the sky is blue, but the Highlands lend themselves just as well to clouds and partial sun. I loved this view of rocks, loch, hills and ocean beyond.
That said, the day we started our drive home was sunny and gorgeous, so I could not resist a stop at Sligachan Bridge, which had been overcast on our last visit. I pride myself on staying dry while managing this under-the-bridge picture of the distant Cuillins.
October was an another busy month of travel, including my first ever visit to Southern California. This picture, taken out of my hotel window on my first night in CA, was a precursor to a really great – if busy – trip.
I found myself drawn to the Californian mountains. They were rugged like the Highlands but dry in their starkness. And stunning in the evening light.
As I recently wrote about, one morning I took myself on an adventure to Laguna Beach. I was entirely on my own and knew nothing about where I was going, but had a wonderful morning in the sun. There were so many gorgeous pictures to be had, but this of the palms and sea and sand was my favourite.
Bangkok was a city about which I knew very little. I found myself fascinated by the architecture, the greenery, the heat, and even the BTS sky train. Always crowded, always hot, and often beautiful in the way only a city can be, Bangkok surprised me.
In one of the more surreal nights of this year, colleagues and I were taken on a river boat cruise in Bangkok. The night skyline was even more beautiful, and it was a magical night.
This is one of my favourite picutres of the whole year, encapsulating the elegance of the ancient temple and the bustle of modern Thailand. I completely fell in love with the city of Chiang Mai and hope I can return!
Finally, in November, I returned to New England to finally see the autumn colours (or tail end of them) and do my job in my home town of Boston. The weather was gorgeous, as the area was in drought, and I was there for the full moon. It was a fitting end to a year of lots of travel to new places, and plenty of opportunities for pictures.
Clockwise from top left: Full moon rising over Marblehead harbour, a stunning tree at Worcester Academy, the statue of George Washington looking over the Boston Public Garden, a stunning red Japanese maple in Mt Auburn Cemetery, and Marblehead harbour at night.
I hope you have enjoyed this photographic trip through my year! Have you checked out my online shop yet?
The last month has a been a whirlwind of work – adjusting to my new job and to the travel it requires has taken a toll on me, but as October moves into November I have been able to take time to rest and review. In doing so, this post formed in my mind.
A few weeks past, in the midst of a busy work trip, I was lucky enough to find myself with a free weekend morning. Originally I had big plans for explorations of the Los Angeles area further north, but a week of traffic and driving did me in and I chose a closer option.
I was staying in Santa Ana and had visited Laguna Beach earlier in the week on a school visit; on that occasion it was swathed in thick fog, with buildings and palm trees just peeking out of the mist. There was a proper Pirates of the Caribbean vibe, with Spanish-inspired architecture a common site.
(side note, I was surprised to discover that almost every morning I was in Orange County was overcast or foggy, but apparently that was not unusual for the time of year).
I had not had time to explore during my weekday visit, and so on Sunday I hopped in the car as soon as I got up and headed south. Even the drive is breath-taking, cutting through the California hills that are as stark as parts of the Scottish Highlands, but a very different colour. I had discovered earlier in the week that several California highways pass through the mountains, making me wish beyond anything that California offered the parking spots and pull-over options that you get in the UK and the White Mountains. My GPS took me along Rt 133, which approaches Laguna Beach from the North-East, the last few miles snaking through high ridges (another option takes you along the coast, but this was less direct). There are periodic parking lots along the 133 for hikers and the myriad of trails winding up into the hills.
Making a mental note to return to one of these trails, I headed into town and found a place to park at one of the several public lots, this one covered so that the car would not overheat. It was far from free – $9 for three hours – but I was not planning a long trip and it was a special day, so I was very happy to pay.
From the parking lot off Glenneyre Street I decided first to make my way up-hill to see St Francis by the Sea, a Catholic church apparently listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the second smallest cathedral in the world. It was a really cute wee spot, but my exploration was curtailed by the fact that I could hear the service taking place inside as I walked by, so I took a few pictures before heading back downhill.
It was a short walk down to the water, passing the local library with very entertaining benches (see below) and several shops that were not yet open though looked appealing.
I reached the beach front in less than five minutes, and it was early enough in the day that the sky was still overcast. The sun was just thinking about peeking through the clouds, with lighter patches promising where it would first defeat the gloom, but in the meantime the cooler temperature allowed several teams of energetic folk to play volleyball in the sand. There was also, to my delight, a small market with local artists and a jewellery-maker who used sea glass in her art. I could not resist picking up a pair of earrings…or two. Behind the fair, the town stretched back towards the hill, which was layered in houses that I can only imagine have spectacular views over the coastline.
The scene by the beach was classic California – a wooden board walk lining the sandy beach with crashing waves where some brave souls were swimming and surfing. A huge range of people walked and sat on benches: young and old, all races and socioeconomic status. There were homeless people with their belongings, dog walkers and people-watchers, families with young children building sandcastles and playing in the surf, a group of young men working to get a jet-ski into the water, tourists like me, and well-muscled and bronzed lifeguards keeping an eye on everyone (yes this is cliché, but evidently for a good reason). We were all kept company by a group of what I think must have been sandpipers, alternately chasing waves and running back up to the dry sand.
I made my way along the beach and up a set of steps that climbed to the top of the cliff and the California Coastal Trail. I was a touch surprised to see the tsunami evacuation route sign, but I suppose only for its novelty – it is not something we have on the East Coast!
The path follows the cliff top for miles, with viewpoints and plenty of side-entertainments in the form of statues, a war memorial, tropical flowers, gorgeous palms and cacti. There is also a spectacular bird rock covered in what looked like cormorant (though may also be brown pelican) just off the coast – the waves crashed around it but never seemed it disrupt its occupants.
At times the path was built out away from the cliff and it was always well-kept, clean and free of any kind of litter. The further I walked, the sunnier it got and the busier the path became with walkers and tourists. I passed plenty of locals out for exercise – many with pets – birdwatchers and a few photoshoots being taken of special events – a wedding and a quinceañera I think – against the spectacular backdrop. Despite being very much in an urban setting, there was plenty of wildlife – mostly avian – to enjoy, and the scent of the sea was refreshing and omnipresent.
Eventually my need for a cold – and caffeinated – drink turned me back towards the town, but not before one last walk along the beach including a small and accidental dip in the waves. Yes, I was too busy filming to notice one coming a bit closer than expected…
The sun on the waves was just too beautiful to ignore, and the view of the town was excellent.
With slightly wet feet, I walked up the pedestrian Forest Ave where there are high-quality restaurants, bistros, and shops. I stopped for a break at a Parisian-style bakery called C’est la Vie – excellent coffee and an enormous pain au chocolat that I enjoyed with my dinner that night.
After a quick stop at a local shop to top up my dinner supplies, I headed back to the car and programmed in one of the ‘staging areas’ along Rt 133 that offers parking for the hiking trails. While it was a bit challenging to turn left across the traffic, I made it there in very little time and managed to pay for parking. In a massive shift of biomes, I found myself now in a desert scrub-type area, with the trail dry dust beneath my feet and the hills rising around me a mix of brown-green and just brown rock or dirt. But, I had sunscreen, water, and determination, so despite the sun beating down mercilessly, I set off on what I promised myself would be a short walk on the Willow Canyon trail. I just wanted a viewpoint, and I figured it could not be TOO far to reach one.
I said to the other half later that it felt very much like the start of a story where someone disappears – a hot sunny day, a hiking trail, and no one to miss me for hours if not days. My imagination ran away with me slightly, partly due to heat, but I was far from alone – I passed people every few minutes, so I knew that even if I were to slip and fall, someone would find me in good time. I also had a phone and full bottle of water, and I had no intention of walking more than a mile.
The trail started flat and in shade of some trees, with lovely rock formations off to the right that looked very TV-California.
In little time it curved off to the right and began to climb – a wide, dusty road that was clearly well-used by hikers, bikers, and horses. My fitness was not at tip-top by any stretch but I could see what I thought was a good place to turn around and see the view, ‘just up ahead’. So, I paused several times and availed myself of plenty of water, and kept pushing – up and up past my first ‘I’ll turn back there’ point, as every time I reached one I could see what looked like a viewpoint just ahead.
In all fairness, I do not think I hiked more than a mile and a half or so, but it was quite steep in places and the mid-day sun was sapping my strength quickly. I had nearly determined to turn around when I finally caught sight of a small sign indicating a viewpoint up ahead. I pushed a bit further and was far from disappointed when the trail swung around sharply to the left, leaving a stunning view across the valley in both directions. Behind were the hills leading towards the coast, and ahead the hills and valleys that eventually flattened out into the populated areas. In the distance, one can just make out what I think must be Rt 73, which I had driven south a few days before.
The hot, sweaty hike was very much worth the view from the top! And despite my knee injury acting up on my way down, I was so happy and proud of myself for the walk. Plus, there was an ice machine back at the hotel for sore joints…
All in all, it was a fantastic morning that allowed me to release some of my work stress and feel like I had a proper California experience. Travelling for work has its ups and downs for sure – it can be lonely, exhausting, jet-lag inducing, and hotels and hotel food can be depressing. But, it can also open the door for experiences like this one, and another I had in Thailand a few weeks later. A subject for my next post!
October has been a whirlwind of work travel and so I have not had time to sit down and write as I hope to do each week. I started this post a few weeks back, when my memory of the walk was fresh, but now have finally been able to finish.
On our recent return to Skye, Dad and I chose a more challenging hike for our first day, and so by day two were looking for something gentle to keep us moving but not over-tire.
The solution was to dig out my Isle of Skye walks book, one of a series that I have been collecting. While there are plenty of walking books out there including the Ordinance Survey series – excellent options that tend towards longer trails – I have found these smaller books to be a wealth of knowledge for shorter strolls.
It took us only a few minutes to decide upon the Two Churches walk, an option I had noted for future exploration on our last visit, and helpfully located only about fifteen minutes away.
The Two Churches walk is about 3km long, a relatively flat loop with a combination of well-kept moorland paths, forest trail, and a short section on the roadside. It leaves from a well-signed lay-by with enough parking for between 5-10 vehicles; we found it almost empty, as many of our fellow walkers were clearly locals.
The path starts just to the right of the ruins of St Mary’s Church. It is a well-kept trail with a slow incline. There is a plaque with details about the walk and its route, as well as some of the birds you may see along the way (though we did not). You get nice views back towards the churchyard, with grassland on both sides. On the day we visited it was mostly dry though I imagine it would be muddy at times, and once the path turns rockier a bit further on, it could be slippery in the wet. I would definitely recommend good sneakers or walking boots to traipse through the puddles.
The walk passes through a farm gate, and continues through patches of gorse and other prickly plants. In spring and summer it would be gorgeous and yellow, though I am quite allergic to gorse so was pleased that the blooms had passed. Only a few minutes in, the path enters a light forest, and going through another gate finds you walking through trees and ferns. It reminded me in many ways of trails in the White Mountains, though the flora was slightly different of course. As the path swings around to the left, the deciduous trees turn mostly to pines, and the trail is surrounded by great tall trees, all very straight in the manner of a planned forest. I had learned that on some estates these tall pines were planted for ship-building, but by the time they grew the industry had moved past using wood. Great expanses of pines in the Highlands were therefore left, though the acidity in falling needles meant little could grow beneath. (This information came mostly from a fantastic series I watched years ago called ‘Making Scotland’s Landscape‘ presented by a Scottish professor of Geoscience.)
It is a lovely peaceful walk with not too much up and down – though there are a few climbs and dips to be had – and we passed several sets of joggers and plenty of dog-walkers, showing the path is clearly popular with locals. There is not much to be seen beyond forest in this stretch, though as the path continues to circle around there is one open viewpoint through which the power cable runs, and through which you can see the loch and the house and mountains on the far side.
After the viewpoint you can hear and at times see the road below the path to the right, and as you approach the end of the forested section, we discovered that the local school had designed fairy houses in the trees and rocks. They were a charming combination of modern and very old-fashioned in design, with a little village at the bottom of a small cliff.
As you leave the fairy town behind, you soon come to the second of the two churches, the Duirinish Parish Church, which unlike St Mary’s is still very much in use. Here the path meets the road, and there is a short stretch of shops and buildings. There is an option for a short detour up to a memorial for those lost in battle, and the site overlooks the town and loch with lovely views.
The trail follows the road up and around the corner to the left, returning to the lay-by. At this point, Dad and I decided we still wished to explore the church ruins and the standing stone on the top of the hill. We started in the church, which was likely to have been founded in the Middle Ages due to its alignment, though the parish dates to the post-reformation period. The stone enclosure of the site dates from the 1730s, and the church was the burial site for some Chiefs of Clan MacLeod as well as their hereditary pipers, the MacCrimmons. It is a beautiful ruin with lovely carvings in the nave, trees overlooking the now roof-less church, and graves of varying ages dotted around the property. It reminded me in some way of Old Burial Hill in Marblehead, though again that may just be my affinity for graveyards!
After exploring the church we felt it was still required that we climb to the top of the nearby hill, where the local community had raised a standing stone referred to as the ‘Duirinish Stone’.
I was a touch disappointed to discover that it was modern and not authentically ancient, but not disappointed enough to miss a visit. The stone was raised on the event of the Millennium as a marker in time, and to celebrate the memory of the ancient settlers of the area. It was found on a beach in the south of the island, and it was erected using ancient methods – hand and rope – an impressive feat! So not ancient, but actually authentic.
In order to reach the path, one has to exit the churchyard completely and then follow the edge of the wall until the trail branches off to the left through the grass. It is not a long walk in any way though the top is quite steep and requires a bit of scrambling. There is a detour about half-way up where hikers have clearly discovered a good viewpoint.
The top of the hill is larger than it looks from a distance – and I imagine there is a less steep path than mine – and the views are spectacular. We could see some rain coming in the distance so did not loiter long, but I got my fill of pictures while Dad wandered a bit.
Upon returning to the car, we both felt the need of refreshment after our roughly two-hour walk and exploration of the church and hill. Fortunately, the town has several options for food and we stopped into the Dunvegan Deli and Café, where I had purchased a few extra snacks on our previous visit. The café does not offer lunch but does sell coffee, tea and an impressive array of excellent cakes. The tables overlook the loch, and it was a very pleasant place to sit with a cuppa to relax. It was also the perfect spot to pick up some dinner supplies: pasta, sauce, and a delicious local cheese, plus of course another cake for dessert. Their range of food includes crackers, jams and jellies, Highland honey, cheese and some cured meats, local ale, and much more!
This is a very pleasant walk for a morning or afternoon, long enough to work out sore muscles from the day before but not enough to add to exhaustion. The views of the loch and mountains are lovely, and this could easily be combined with a visit to Dunvegan Castle which is only a mile or two further along the road. And definitely, if you have time, stop into the Dunvegan Café for a snack!
Check out my online shop for more Highland pictures!
The stretch of road just south of Fort William leading through Glencoe and across Rannoch Moor is hands down one of my favourite driving routes in the world. No matter the weather, I cannot help but smile at the approach – even on the days when the rain is pouring sideways and the wind is trying to blow the car off the narrow road, as it did on one occasion which felt like driving through a hurricane. In good weather, it is simply breath-taking. In bad weather, it is atmosphere, dramatic, and a touch frightening. Either way, one should only attempt the drive when rested, confident, and possessing a full tank of petrol. Or at least a car that can make it at least 100 miles on the tank it has.
Sometimes the road is relatively clear, but most of the time it is on the crowded side, with visitors, tour busses, delivery lorries and of course locals just trying to make their way from point A to point B all crowding up the narrow highway. If stuck behind a lorry or bus, you can find your speed significantly diminished, and some will take risks to overtake. Needless to say, do this only if you feel comfortable and safe. Otherwise you just have to suck it up and enjoy the scenery – darn.
So here we are, a step-by-step of the drive, stopping at all of my favourite viewpoints.
Part 1: Fort William to Onich – 10 miles
The A82 route from Fort William to Onich is about 10 miles, and hugs the edge of Loch Linnhe. For most of the route, the trees block the view of the water, but there are a few gaps and parking spots where you can pull over – in particular the Linnhe Picnic Area, about 7 miles along, which is a spit of land sticking out into the loch and providing views in both directions.
This stretch of road is winding, no question, with few straight bits. My advice? Pay attention if the signs warn you of a sharp turn.
We have never stopped properly in Onich but it seems a nice little town with a few hotels, guesthouses and B&Bs taking advantage of the proximity of Fort William and Glencoe.
Part 2: Onich to Ballachulish – 4.5 miles
From Onich, it is a simple matter of following the A82 across the Ballachulish Bridge, which spans Loch Leven. Once across you can head straight south towards Oban, and this is also a beautiful drive along the water, but my route will take you left towards Glencoe.
Almost as soon as you turn you will be heading immediately for a distinctive sharp peak called the Pap of Glencoe, and beyond it ridges of mountains leading east. On our first ever long weekend away together, the other half and I found a deal at the Isles of Glencoe Hotel in Ballachulish, which sits on a promontory in the loch. The views are just spectacular, especially at sunset. If you can, pull over at the parking area along the loch just after the hotel, or even turn into the village and get a coffee or snack at Crafts and Things. It was more than 10 years ago that we visited, but the other half still fondly remembers sitting in the April sun, looking over the loch with a cuppa and a tiffin.
You can also take a quick detour left into the Loch Leven viewpoint (above), which as it suggests provides a view down the loch towards the bridge, at this point obscured by islands. Mountains rise in the distance and give you a preview of what is to come. This is also the route to the Glencoe Lochan walks.
Part 3: Ballachulish to Loch Achtriochtan – 5.5 miles
After Ballachulish the road turns inland away from the loch, and enters Glen Coe proper. Only 2 miles along on the right is the Glencoe Visitor Centre, where you can learn about the region and the famous massacre of 1692.
Mountains are rising on both sides of the road and ahead, often a combination of brown-grey scree and stone with lighter green patches of heather and ferns, and darker green foliage. The road here is in relatively good shape with a few potholes, and many drivers slow down both due to the sharp turns and the views. Enjoy the width of the lane while you can!
Another mile or so south, the road swings more sharply east to continue along the glen. Ahead of you the A82 stretches along the valley and then begins to climb, and ahead to the right is Loch Achtriochtan.
It can be a very busy and treacherous stretch of road, with drivers going faster than they should and plenty of tour busses and caravans, so I recommend pulling into the Loch Achtriochtan car park. Here you can either pause at the bridge, or cross to make friends with some sheep and approach the waterside. This spot allows you to capture the gorgeous hillsides and loch.
There is also apparently a turn-off around here to view Hagrid’s hut from the Harry Potter films, though I have never done so.
Part 4: Loch Achtriochtan to the Three Sisters viewpoint – 2 miles
Once you have dragged yourself away form the the loch, it is two miles further to the pièce de résistance of this drive – the view of the Three Sisters of Glencoe. Until quite recently, there were several places you could turn off and you were often taking your life in your hands trying to park and find a safe place to get back onto the road. In the last year or two however they have built a proper car park – and another one for tour busses – to allow the many visitors to safely park and explore. There are a few parking spots slightly further up the road too, and there are paths leading down into the valley or up the hillsides.
The Three Sisters of Glencoe is one of the most photographed spots in Scotland and only a visit need tell you why. I have countless pictures from different times of year and I can never decide which one I prefer. Some day soon I hope to do some of the walk down into the valley and across the bridge, though I know I do not have the fitness or skills needed to venture too much further up into the hills at this point. Aonach Eagach Car Park is another good option but often too busy to find a space. It is at the trailhead for the Lost Valley trail and provides a slightly different view of the valley.
Side note: if it seems at this point as if you are just driving a few miles and then stopping again, you’re not wrong, but I promise the stops are worth it. If you get bored, skip one! But if this is your only trip to Scotland, I’d take advantage of them all.
Part 5 – Three Sisters Viewpoint to Meeting of the Three Waters viewpoint – less than 1 mile
Yes, this is a short drive. I had passed it by many times before I made myself actually stop on one beautiful autumn day. The waters are, as it sounds, three separate rivers (Allt Coire Gabhail, Allt Doire-bheith and the River Coe) that meet here at a pool and series of waterfalls, before continuing down the glen towards the lochs.
There is a short climb from the car park that takes you up the rocks and over the waterfall, and the start of the climb is a bit ropey. But, once you have clambered up the hill, you reach a stunning viewpoint that shows you the newly built road, the falls, and the burn heading up into the mountains. There is a pool where I have seen people swimming – brave souls – and of course a trail that follows the burn. I dragged my octogenerian father up to see the view and I think even he was impressed. It is easy to see here the old military road, which was in modern times replaced by the route of the A82.
One point I should make is that in that .7 miles between the two spots, you are driving along a narrow road.
At one point, the highway cuts through the hillside, with solid rock towering on either side, and leaving very little room for error. Not that anyone would err…
It can be a bit harrowing even after several goes, so take it slow and easy.
It is very easy to miss the parking spot for the Meeting of the Three Waters
and this is not an easy place to turn around, so definitely use your Google/Applemaps or whatever Satnav system you prefer to warn you.
Part 6 – Meeting of the Three Waters to the Kingshouse Hotel – 5 miles
Beyond this parking spot are plenty more viewpoints and places where you can pull over, and it’s really about deciding how often you want to stop, and how busy they are. Sometimes there are so many cars parked in a small spot that you really cannot safely get off of the road. Once you have had your fill of waterfalls, you can make a bit of headway as the road opens up a bit with mountains on either side. Eventually the road will hug the edge of Rannoch Moor, and this is where in bad weather you can really start to feel the car being blown about.
The Kingshouse Hotel is a popular stopping place though they are strict about people coming in just for the view. I would love to stay and know friends who were married here during the pandemic – this area is famous for the amazing views of the mountain, Buachaille Etive Mór. You can also take a detour here and drive part of the way down Loch Etive, though as yet I have not done so. Some trip, one day!
Part 7 – Kingshouse Hotel to the Loch Ba viewpoint – 5 miles
Just after the hotel you will pass the turn-off to the Glencoe Ski resort – the trails are evident – and the mountains stay a bit closer on the right though they start to fall away on the left, as the moor creeps closer. This is quintessential Scotland, in my mind – boggy moor with mountains in the distance, countless little burns falling over rocks and carving their way down from hills and across the landscape. Rocks poke through either on their own or in clusters and chunks, covered in lichen and reminding one just how thin the soil is here. There are a few lone trees, but most of the landscape is relatively barren.
The final place that I cannot resist stopping is the Loch Ba viewpoint. There is usually plenty of space to pull over, and it is easy to see coming due to the lump of land that marks the view. Climbing this short hillock allows for 360 views, though it is the one almost due east that I love the most – glistening loch with plenty of small islands, leading away into the wilderness.
Behind you are the peaks of Glencoe, and ahead just the road, leading towards the next hills in the distance. I can understand why some might assess it as stark, but I think it is gorgeous.
Part 8 – Loch Ba viewpoint to Crianlarich – 19 miles
About three miles beyond the Loch Ba viewpoint, you realise how high the road still is when it suddenly, dramatically, begins to fall. There is a sharp descent through an s-bend that can challenge lorries and busses coming the other direction, though there is also a large parking area to pull over in if needed. From here, the road is a bit less dramatic though still stunning, crossing the Loch Tulla bridge and winding its way across the valley floor before climbing again.
One of your last views of the lochs and lowland of the edge of the moor comes at the far side of Loch Tulla, where there is a small parking area, but the views are better in person than in pictures. From here, the A82 is heading almost due south, passing through a number of villages and meeting up with the rail line that runs from Glasgow to Fort William. Bridge of Orchy and Tyndrum stand out as the two larger towns, with Tyndrum in particular possessing several hotels, petrol stations – if you can get in – and the Green Welly stop which has always been so busy that we haven’t been able to get in. For some reason there always seems to be a large gathering of motorcycles here.
Tyndrum is also where the highway branches off towards Oban, and from here south can get busier. The remainder of the drive to Crianlarich is following the River Fillian and its many small tributaries; mountains continue to dominate on both sides though they are slightly less dramatic than further north.
Crianlarich is another smallish town that has become significant for those heading to the Highlands. Firstly, it is where the road branches either to continue south towards Loch Lomond and Glasgow as the A82, or east to Loch Earn and Perth as the A85. Secondly, it is where the rail line divides. As I mentioned in my exploring Scotland by public transport post, the train from Glasgow north can go either to Fort William or Oban, and Crianlarich is where it stops long enough for the train to either split in two, or be re-joined. There is also a significant hiking peak, Ben More, not far from town, and plenty of places to stop for the night.
Part 9 – Crianlarich to Lochearnhead – 16 miles
The 16 miles from Crianlarich to Lochearnhead is highlighted by a bit wider road, and slightly lower mountains, though still offers glimpses of lochs off to the left. Just over half-way is the turn-off to Killin, where one can view the Falls of Dochart. There is also what I will always refer to as my emergency petrol station – on my last drive back with Dad, I misjudged how much petrol we had and could not see a place to stop in Crianlarich, so was running on fumes by the time we reached this spot. I was considering just going into Killin where I knew there was petrol, but this station saved us and allowed us to continue without a detour.
After the emergency petrol station, the road climbs and winds again through what is clearly planned woodland. One of the most dramatic parts of the drive is as this path falls again, with the road hugging the mountainside and a sharp drop on one side. Ahead, though, is Perthshire and in what feels like no time at all, you enter Lochearnhead, and take a left to stay on the A85. While there is not a huge amount here, there is a safe and relatively clean public toilet that can be a godsend if you have not stopped anywhere except viewpoints since Fort William.
Part 10 – Lochearnhead to Crieff – 19 miles
The drive along Loch Earn is beautiful. The loch itself is long and narrow, with plenty of well-to-do houses along the edge and water sports galore: paddleboarding, sailing, swimming and fishing are all advertised. Especially on a sunny day, the glimpses of glistening water through the trees make you want to stop and find a boat of your own.
The drive from one end to the other is about 7 miles, and the town at the far end – St Fillians – is a charming village with plenty of Victorian-era gingerbread-style houses and lovely gardens. After St Fillians, the driving is much more lowland, with farms on either side, sheep fields and stunning stone farmhouses dotted between stands of trees and hills.
Crieff itself is an excellent spot to stop for a snack if you need, or you can push on through towards Perth – another 15 miles. This road offers a more Fife and lowland feel. Fields stretch off into the disttance over rolling hills, and the distant Ochils on the horizon. I have never liked this stretch but I think it’s at least partly because I know I’m heading away from the mountains, and that never ceases to make me a bit sad.
Once you have done the circular drive from Perth to Fort William and back again, you will quickly decide which leg you prefer and where you like to stop. I’m fond of both routes really, though I find myself often preferring the northerly loop as it can be a touch faster, traffic depending. I am looking forward to trying it again…tomorrow!
In spring of 2021, Scotland had been in pandemic lockdown since Boxing Day 2020 (the day after Christmas). Then finally, in April, the word came – we were for the first time permitted to leave our ‘local area’. We could leave Fife!
A walk was the most inevitable choice for our first out-of-county adventure, as there were still plenty of restrictions in place and staying outdoors was ideal. So, we chose for our first adventure a walk we had never tried before – the Hermitage Woodland Walk.
Through reading various websites, we opted to drive to the Rumbling Bridge end of the path and walk down towards Ossian’s Hall. At first, it seemed an excellent choice – the path was quiet, and the day was pleasant and sunny. But, as we made our first turn onto the Hermitage walk proper, we discovered that we were far from the only people with this idea – hordes of walkers, many clearly not used to such excursions, were enjoying being outdoors. We passed numerous people in flip-flops and carrying take-away coffee cups, girls in sundresses that were not designed for woodland walks, and families with young children and prams that were struggling on the rocky path. In fact, it was so busy that we only just reached the hall before turning back and fleeing to the quieter, further away paths.
River Braan above the bridge
A quick note about the route we took in 2021: parking in the Rumbling Bridge car park – which requires turning up the A822 before you reach the Hermitage car park – allows you to hike downhill first, then back up to the bridge, and also to explore the River Braan as it tumbles over boulders and small falls. When walking from the ‘proper’ car park, it is easy not to venture all the way up to the Rumbling Bridge, but I definitely recommend doing so, particularly if you have a liking for rivers and waterfalls. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
More of the river above Rumbling Bridge
My second trip was with a work Step-Count Challenge group about a year later, and it was on this trip that I think was truly able to enjoy the beautiful path. My third trip, also with friends from work, was equally lovely, and we found – several years after the end of pandemic restrictions – a set of picnic benches, coffee and donut wagon, and port-a-loos that were passably clean, all right beside the main car park. Starting here, the path passes under the rail line and follows the river through majestic trees.
This area is wide and mostly flat with only the slightest incline, though the hillside rises sharply above the path. In a short time, there is a fork in the road, and taking the left-hand option leads to the highlight of the visit – an almost Tolkien-esque stone bridge and Ossian’s Hall. It makes sense first to take the short trip down the hill to stand on the bridge, where you can get a stunning view of the Black Linn Falls as well as the large pond beyond the bridge.
If you cross and follow the path to the right, you eventually find yourself with a perfect view back towards Ossian’s Hall. The hall was constructed in the 1780s to replace a summerhouse. In fact, the entirety of the Hermitage is not natural landscape, but was designed as a pleasure ground for the Dukes of Atholl. Once one is aware, the towering Douglas firs do seem a touch too perfectly planted, and indeed the almost elvish or fairy-like forest is a touch too magical.
The view of the falls is even better from within the hall, though at busy times you may have to wait your turn for the best view, as the viewing balcony allows only about 5 or 6 people comfortably. Beyond the hall, there are several places where you can look back at the hall and bridge. I have seen drone shots of the falls where the drone has flown down the river and under the bridge, something I wish I could do myself!
Once you have had your fill of the fantasy land around Ossian’s Hall, you can continue up the path, which starts to gradually ascend as it follows the river. On several occasions I was driven to remark on how much it reminded me of rivers in the White Mountains in New Hampshire – rocky, the water tumbling over the rocks to form peaceful pools and swift rapids, blue sky and trees growing almost out of the riverbank. When hiking with the Step-Count group, we had brought a picnic and found ourselves an ideal picnic spot on some rocks along the river, with views in both directions.
Gradually the path lifts away from the water, as the river sits in a gorge many feet below. There are several side-trips one can take as paths cut closer to the edge of the water (sometimes a steep drop into the gorge) or into the woods to the right. A notable detour is Ossian’s Cave, another constructed portion of the pleasure grounds (called a folly) where, if one is brave, you can duck into the rock construction. It is arguably more pleasant from the outside.
From here the trail continues through varying types of forest as it climbs, and after a slightly steeper ascent through more pines, one reaches a T-junction. Almost immediately ahead is a small stone house that is almost Bob Rossian in its placement amongst the trees, with a stone wall running along the path. It’s a good place to pause in the trees before crossing a small bridge across a burn, into the open. Just beyond a stand of rhododendron is a wide meadow with a grassy hill on one side topped by a rock formation, and gentle slope down on the opposite with views across the hills and valley.
view from the rock formation
If you have had enough walking for the day this is a good spot to catch your breath for a few moments before heading back down towards the car park. If you’re not done yet, it is only about five or ten more minutes to the Rumbling Bridge. You will notice a lone house on the hill above, which I have learned from Google Maps is in fact a small hotel. In the days of the pandemic, it looked quite lonely – in retrospect I imagine the views are spectacular.
Here the road forks again, and you will want to follow the left fork down the hill towards the bridge. This is an active road, so it is worth being careful to listen out for vehicles who may not see you easily. The bridge itself provides views of the river in both directions, as you would expect, and sits almost directly over the falls, so the ground seems to drop away quite swiftly on the downriver side.
If you make your way to the Rumbling Bridge car park, you will find a map similar to the one at the top of this post with plenty more walk options should you wish to keep going. Or, you can do what we did and spend some time climbing on the rocks out into the river, if you are in to such things.
A visit to the Hermitage is highly recommended for anyone who loves a good walk in the woods. The lower section to Ossian’s Hall is manageable for walkers of almost any ability as it is flat and the path well-kept, while the higher section offers a bit of a climb and some beautiful views. The circuit to Rumbling Bridge and back is not particularly long, but can be boggy in places so sturdy shoes are a must. Prior to my last visit I may also have cautioned about more basic comforts but there are now the port-a-loos available as well as the small van, so you can probably even manage without refreshments. That said, there are some perfect picnic spots along the way, so I would recommend bringing something with you. As long, of course, as you are willing to follow the camping rules I recall from the White Mountains – pack it in, pack it out! It is a shame to see litter on the trails, as we did in 2021.
Another small caution is in the driving; when arriving from the south, it is an easy matter to turn left into the Hermitage park or onto the A822 to reach the Rumbling Bridge end. But, coming back out can be a bit of a challenge. Waiting for a break in the traffic so that you can speed across onto the far side of the A9 is not for the timid or indeed the impatient – it can take quite literally 5 minutes to get back out onto the highway and unfortunately I am not aware of anywhere close by that you can turn around further north.
If you have been on a good walk and are interested in another short wander or something more substantial for food and drink, the town of Dunkeld is only a few minutes away and has plenty of options. It’s a charming wee town to walk around and has remains of a cathedral – what’s not to like?
It has been a hectic few weeks at work, which has meant I have not had time to devote to anything but getting through the day. But the busy time is unlikely to pass, and so I have to make time to focus on my real love – my blog and pictures, and anything Fort William-focussed. And so, I bring you this account of a drive I will happily do at any time of year, and with any companions: the drive to Fort William.
East Scotland – the Dundee area, Fife, southern Perth and Kinross – is quite similar in terms of geography: rolling hills, plenty of farmland, coastlines, and dotted with regular towns of good size. Not far north of Perth on the A9, though, pine trees close in around the road and the landscape begins to change. More dramatic, jagged hills rise and all at once I relax. A feeling of joy comes over me, and I cannot help but smile, knowing that I am headed north. I cannot really explain why my mood changes. It may be the hills, heading to mountains; it may be the many happy memories I have of locations to the north; it may be just that the stretch of Scotland north of Perth is some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. Whether continuing to Fort William or just planning a day trip, I just love this stretch of road, and beyond.
And so, in this post I’ll take you on the first half of a circular journey to Fort William, a drive I have done many times. Once I managed it all in one day though I would not recommend it.
There is an issue with the A9 – where this drive begins – that must be addressed, and one that I have confidence will remain an issue for years to come despite all efforts of the Scottish government. That issue is that, for the last eight+ years, Transport Scotland has been working on a project to make the entire road from Perth to Inverness dual carriageway. For Americans, this means that there is a strip of land separating the traffic going in opposite directions, like many US highways. As the A9 is the main road north through the Highlands with increasing traffic and plenty of freight, this seems a no-brainer – it is just taking a touch longer than hoped (doing my best not to make a Big Dig comparison). There are also significant engineering challenges to many stretches of the road. This means, more often than not, areas of slower traffic and roadworks can hold you up, but anyone stuck behind a lorry on a stretch of two-lane road will understand the necessity of this work.
Back to the drive.
The road pictured above is where the A9 curves, just before reaching the towns of Dunkeld and Birnam, and the Hermitage woodland walk. All three are worthy of their own posts in time, but generally when driving north we do not stop until a bit further on. The road cuts through a set of hills here, with sheep fields on both sides between patches of trees. The highway runs near the River Tay and parallel to the train line that runs from Perth to Inverness. While the track disappears on occasion, it is not uncommon to spy a train.
The next way marker is the widening of the valley in anticipation of reaching Pitlochry. Pitlochry is a small town that holds a place in my heart as where the other half and I went for our first weekend away together, but also for its quaint touristy feel.
Just past Pitlochry is Killiecrankie, famous location of the Soldier’s Leap, and another great place to stop for a walk. Beyond the turn-off to Loch Tummel and the Queen’s View, the highway starts to rise up and along the side of a hill, and there is a gorgeous view of the mountains and the valley along to the left – it never comes through on pictures, though.
At this point in the drive there is a touch of anticipatory excitement, as I know what is coming. Almost never do we manage to get this far north without stopping at our favourite money trap: the House of Bruar, a high-end shop that sells textiles, outdoor equipment, kitchen accessories, toys, Scottish souvenirs and art of all kinds, and boasts an impressive fine food hall with every type of jam, jelly, cracker, cheese or fine meat that you can imagine. The butcher is fabulous, and the cafe is just as good for a scone or soup, sandwich and snack. Even better is the fantastic walk in the woods behind – again a post for another time, though I have several pictures of the Falls of Bruar in my ‘winter wonderland’ post.
House of Bruar represents another key marker on this drive – a bit less than half way (if you have started in central Scotland), and one of the last places until you reach Fort William that you can easily stop for a restroom break (there are a few other options, but they are not always available).
Beyond Bruar, one really enters the Highlands, with hills on both sides as the A9 follows the River Garry. While it is not always easy to tell, you are climbing at this point, and to the left in particular you can catch glimpses of lochs and glens cutting south. One of my favourites is the Dalnaspidal viewpoint, with a lovely river leading from Loch Garry:
It is not always feasible to stop here, but the next point is a must. At Dalnaspidal you are only a few minutes away from the Pass of Drumochter, the highest point on the A9 and the rail network, and the only gap in the Grampians suitable for road traffic for 100 km. The weather is quite frequently dramatically different here, sometimes raining or snowing when Bruar was sunny and warm. There is a good-sized lay-by, and it boasts one of the happiest signs in Scotland: ‘Welcome to the Highlands’.
There are countless walks that one can take up into the hills here, and I have made it a habit to get out and stretch my legs, particularly if we have not stopped long at Bruar.
Drumochter is only a few miles from the next important milestone: the turn off of the A9. If one has examined a map, one notices that the A9 heads north and then curves east again slightly as it approaches Aviemore. To head west and then a touch south to Fort William, one must take the exit at Dalwhinnie, where there is a small town and a large distillery where they make, surprisingly enough, Dalwhinnie whisky. Tours are available at certain times of year.
The road in fact circles up around the distillery, and it is important to take care here as the lanes are narrow and large lorries and trucks are regular sights. From this point you will by requirement drive a bit slower; from Dalwhinnie north the road is winding and often roller-coaster like as it sinks and rises through the hills. The views are stunning though, back over the valley and town, and to the east where the Cairngorms are stretching out away from the road. To the left is relatively new forest, immediately to the right are fields, usually with sheep, and ahead rises a sharp peak of which I have not yet worked out the name. The road here is actually following the route of General Wade’s Military Road, constructed in the mid-1700s to help bring Scotland to order.
In several miles the road falls away and curves around to the west, with dramatic craggy peaks up to the left. When driving, one must be paying close attention as the route is both narrow and winding; passengers can enjoy the view. There is a touch of relief when you reach a T-junction with the A86. Here one turns left, following signs for Kinloch Laggan, Spean Bridge and Fort William. Note, turning right will eventually take you back to the A9 via Kingussie.
The road now is a touch wider, and in a few miles meets up with the River Pattack. There is a trail and small picnic area so that you can climb up to view Pattack Falls – well worth a stop if you need to stretch your legs or take a break from the roads.
Several miles beyond Pattack, the trees open up for a fraction of a moment to allow you a stunning view down Loch Laggan; I have seldom been able to properly pause here, but if you can find a viewpoint along the loch that is not blocked by trees, it is definitely recommended to stop briefly.
I always manage to confuse myself, thinking we are almost at the Laggan Dam, but in fact it is a solid 12 miles further as it does not sit at the end of the loch as one might expect. Approaching the the dam are more views over the mountains and the waterway down to the left, while to the right is the forest and hillside.
If you have managed the whole stretch from Dalwhinnie without stopping, you will absolutely want to stop at Laggan Dam, both for the view and to stretch your legs – you’re still about 30 minutes or so from Fort William. Directly south, behind the range of hills, is Rannoch Moor, and if you look at a map you will see you have just done a big loop up and around some impenetrable hills.
Constructed in the early 1930s, the dam is part of the Lochaber hydroelectric scheme, designed post-World War I to provide electricity for aluminium production. Now, you are able to stand at the edge of the dam and see the reservoir formed by the River Spean, and also the sharp peaks that form the eastern end of the Nevis Range.
Starting off from Laggan again you are in the home stretch, but also some of the more challenging part of the drive – this portion of the A86 is regularly considered one of the more dangerous roads in Scotland. You will quickly see why; it is winding with sharp bends, narrow turns, and drivers who often go far too fast. In the rain it can be prone to slippage from the steep hill above, and there is an equally steep drop off to the other side, into the gorge of the River Spean. I should say, I have never had any issues here, but I am also on the cautious side here.
It is a beautiful route through a series of towns and villages where there are B&Bs and small hotels abounding. Some of the towns are also served by the rail line from Fort William to Glasgow. We stayed several times in a lovely hotel near Roybridge that provided excellent views up Glen Spean to the Nevis Range, but also showed how winding the road could be. Between Roybridge and Spean Bridge there are a few wide open fields where you can see up to Ben Nevis – the UK’s highest peak – often still snow-capped in April.
Spean Bridge is slightly larger than Roybridge, and there you can find several hotels and a woollen mill that provides refreshments (mostly to bus tours) as well as wide-ranging Scottish souvenirs. As expected, the River Spean passes under the road here, before carving its way through the landscape to join the River Lochy. This is also where the A86 joins the A82, offering an option to turn north towards Inverness or continue west to Fort William.
The drive into Fort William from here includes some spectacular scenery on both sides, with the Nevis Range rising to the left and farm and more mountains to the right. A few miles out from the town, you pass the Nevis Range mountain resort, where you can take the gondola up Aonach Mor.
The approach into Fort William passes some very familiar modern sights such as a large Aldi, M&S Food Hall, KFC, Costa Coffee, and Pound Stretcher. You will also go through the roundabout where the road from Glenfinnan and Mallaig intersects the A82 – believe it or not, I have been stuck at this roundabout in long queues of traffic. One does not often imagine finding a traffic jam in the Highlands!
Nevertheless, I always find myself smiling as whatever vehicle I am in makes its way past the turn off to Ben Nevis, then the many guest houses and B&Bs, and eventually into the town centre of Fort William.
A few items to note if you intend to try this drive:
As mentioned above, there are not many places to stop for refreshments or comfort breaks between Dalwhinnie and Spean Bridge, so plan both carefully.
Likewise, petrol is scarce between these points, but if you have filled up in Perth you should be able to reach Fort William without any danger of running low – transport depending of course.
Roads will be slippery and potentially even closed in poor weather (particularly in the winter). Drive carefully and always check the route on Google Maps or your preferred method before leaving. Roadworks and diversions may pop up without much warning!
If you intend to stay in Fort William, make a reservation. It is frequently busy, even when you think it might not be…
I will write soon I am sure about the town of Fort William itself, places to eat and stay, as well as the drive back south again via Glencoe and Rannoch Moor. Until then, I hope some of my pictures have persuaded you to give this journey a go!
Dunnottar Castle, sitting on the east coast of Scotland on a headland, is one of the most photographed castles in the UK; if you get a standard Scotland calendar, it’s as likely as not to contain one picture of this castle. And for good reason – the partially-ruined castle sits on its own rock surrounded by the sea, silhouetted against the sky and Aberdeenshire cliffs. Like Edinburgh, it is a castle through which one can see the passage of time, the periods of history in which it was used and built. The keep and entrance are thoroughly medieval, but the North, East and West ranges are all varying degrees of late medieval and modern.
Dunnottar is most easily accessed by car, but if you are trying a carbon-friendly tour of Scotland, you are still in luck. You can either walk up the seacoast from nearby Stonehaven, about 1.5 miles – though prepare for a few good climbs and wear sturdy shoes – or you can get a local bus to the end of the road, about half a mile. I am not sure how often these busses run, however, so definitely keep an eye on the schedules. My mother and I first visited more than ten years ago, though I cannot recall how we actually reached the castle as we were definitely without a car; I have a feeling we actually took a taxi from Stonehaven train station, so that may be another option.
Tickets for the castle are purchased once you make it inside the fortress, so in theory one could visit and walk along the coast to see the castle from a distance, but for free. The opening hours vary by time of year, but are up to date on the castle website, where you can also buy tickets in advance.
There is a good-sized car park with a porta-loo and a very good catering van that sells drinks, ice cream, chips and rolls with bacon, burgers, hot dogs, or haggis. There may have been a vegetarian option, but I am not positive.
The adjacent picnic benches are visited regularly by scores of sparrows living nearby, and they are quite tame, hopping right up to you for a few crumbs or a piece of roll.
From the car park, visitors start off down a wide path lined with thistle and wild roses, with the castle slowly rising on the horizon ahead.
One has an option to go left along the coast, right across a few small bridges to a viewpoint, or immediately to the castle. I recommend, to get warmed up, a jaunt along to the right first, where you will go down and up a few sets of stairs and path as to move along the cliff. This path is also lined with Scottish fireweed (purple flowers) and gorse, and there are several excellent places to pause for a picture.
The viewpoint itself allows for gorgeous pictures – as one would expect – of the rock on which the castle sits, the coast, and the sea. From here you can also get a good feel for the staircase awaiting you to access the castle.
Once you have had your fill of this particular view, you can continue along the coast quite a bit further, or you can head back down and up to the point you started, looking over the castle and bay. From here, you must descend what must be around 100 steps, zig-zagging down the steep hillside towards the beach. The stairs are wide enough for two to pass and have a solid railing, plus at least one bench at which one can take a breath. This route also offers some excellent views, though it’s hard to stop for long when there is a queue of people behind you waiting to get down, or up.
The bottom of the staircase offers again two options – you can scamper off left to explore the beach, or go straight ahead to the castle. Here one finds another set of stairs, though first you have a good view of the rock on which the castle is built, including a gated cave and the land bridge that once connected the castle to the coastline but was eroded for security.
Stairs take you in a postern gate type of entrance, and then up through the gatehouse to where you buy or show your tickets. From the ticket office, there is a well-marked route climbing up through the castle, past Benholm’s Lodging, a structure clinging to the edge of the rock. The top floor is a comfortable enough room, while the lower levels are all designed to aide in defence of the castle with numerous arrow loops.
Another short climb through a pends – covered passage that make you very pleased you are not storming the castle – and finally in front of you rises the medieval keep, strong and square and emblematic of high medieval Scottish construction. The keep was constructed in the 1390s by Sir William Keith, Great Marischal of Scotland, a hereditary post held by his family and one of great importance to the governing of the kingdom. Quite well preserved, the keep hosts a large kitchen hearth on the bottom floor and a rare straight stone staircase leading to the second floor. Here you can look out over the rest of the castle or the beaches beyond.
Once you have fully explored the keep, you will find countless other structures in various states of ruin from the storeroom and stables to the increasingly less-medieval ranges built through the early modern period. There is a cistern for water and probably fish, several residence blocks and the old chapel.
The chapel is key to note, as it is one of the oldest structures; consecrated in 1276 by William Wishart, the Bishop of St Andrews, it probably replaced a much earlier chapel to St Ninian, a missionary saint who is very popular in Scotland. The site of Dunnottar itself was likely inhabited as early as the fifth century by the Picts, and it was a religious site in the early Middle Ages, meaning that the construction of a defensive castle caused some upset. The pope even became involved in the dispute. Poignantly, the land that was graveyard is now mostly grass, with only one marker remaining.
The chapel may have been the site of a massacre of the English by William Wallace in 1297. Blind Harry, Wallace’s often unreliable biographer, relates that English soldiers had fled to Dunnottar for sanctuary – validating the site as a religious one – but that Wallace set fire to the chapel, burning many soldiers alive. The survivors were run off the edge of the cliff. The brutal story may not be completely true, but the may have gotten the gist of things.
A more complete history and many details can be found on the very helpful website for the castle.
A few highlights include a stay by Mary Queen of Scots – where didn’t she stay in Scotland? – and the protection of the Honours of Scotland (the royal regalia) during the invasion by Cromwell in the 1650s. One can spend a very pleasant time just sitting on one of the many benches and enjoying the view, over the sea or the castle grounds, which are impeccably well-kept.
Another option is to walk essentially around the edge of the rock, where you can enjoy the views down over a tremendous rock formation, and along the headland.
In all, you could easily spend several hours exploring the many nooks and crannies. The group I was with scattered to all corners of the castle, and it was lovely to sit in the sun and gradually wait for them all to drift back again, with various stories of things they had seen. Once we had traversed the stairs once more, we chose to walk along the cliff in the Stonehaven direction for about a mile, with the ocean and views of castle on one side and fields of cattle on the other.
This view really shows you the path down and back up to the castle, as well as the eroded natural land bridge..
There are a few caveats to visiting this castle – caveats may really be too strong a word, more things to be aware of when planning:
Firstly, as you have doubtless gathered, it is not particularly accessible. There are lots of steep steps just to get to the castle, and more inside as you ascend through the pends. Secondly, any refreshments you may want in the castle itself must be brought by you. This is of course quite reasonable, but considering the physical effort to traverse the stairs, it is worth remembering a water bottle. That said, the toilet facilities are limited, with only two stalls for the women and one for the men, I believe. At several points there was a bit of a queue – not a problem at all if you are prepared, but definitely worth knowing ahead of time. The one final disappointment to castle aficionados is that there is no shop selling merchandise, postcards, etc., though this is no doubt because the castle is owned and managed privately. Guide books are available at the ticket office at a very reasonable price.
Overall I’d say that the castle is not quite as suited for an onslaught of tourists as some others I have seen, but it is absolutely worth making the effort, especially if you are prepared!
The Wandering Medievalist 