Stories and photos from Scotland
2019 got off to an exciting start for me with the news that my historical novel, The Mermaid and the Bear, will be published by GWL Publishing this Autumn.
An editing journey lies ahead, but I can tell you these things about the book:
I made a wee aesthetic for it, because: oh the fun!
Above: a scene from a moonlit walk, because I so appreciate being able to go on walks now that I can’t wait for it to get light!
It’s been a strange summer. I spent much of it being ill, properly ‘can’t do anything, go anywhere, just have to sit still‘ ill. I feel changed by it. I have such huge appreciation for the good in my world now: the wonderful people I share my life with, the amazing place I live.
Seriously, there was no better place to lie around being ill than in my garden. Bats and giant dragonflies kept coming out of the pond and trees to peer at me. Tall trees rustled protectively around me. And the sun shone and shone this summer, didn’t it?
And books! Films! Netflix! Thank you, thank you, to all those creators: you kept my mind occupied while my body healed.
And the less than good? It highlighted itself with such clarity that I am left so much wiser and, I hope, more able to deflect it in the future.
Things that happened while I was still: the witch stone near Fraserburgh was cleared of gorse so it can now be seen.
I had a wee story published in an anthology.
But summer is over now. Illness is over. So, boots on, off out into the moonlight I go!
For years I passed by the road signs for Findlater Castle on my way to other places, joking that ‘I must find that later’. I’m so glad I finally did! I’ve been a few times now and it’s always stunning.
On this day it was exceptionally warm and still for Northern Scotland which emboldened me to go a bit further down onto the ramparts than I’ve been before.
Off I went, past the gorse which was warmed by the sun and smelled all coconutty:
This is as far as I normally dare, just to this first chunk of wall…
And then up the wee path for a peek at the shore beyond.
But with no gusts of wind to blast me off the edge, on I marched (or tentatively crept, to be more accurate).
Look at those craggy walls!
I sat down here and contemplated being really brave and jumping down that hole under the archway. Ah, what photos I would get, what views, what atmosphere… then I remembered the ghost story. A small boy and his nurse were standing near an open window, maybe even one of those in view, when he jumped from her arms and disappeared down the side of the cliff, presumably to his death. She scrambled after him, also to her doom, and her spirit still haunts the castle searching for her errant charge.
So, sorry to disappoint, but after another look over the edge I retraced my steps back up the hill.
This meant I survived to visit the nearby Doocot (pigeon house). It dates from the 15th century as does the castle.
I love its door:
And all the little nesting boxes within:
If you visit Findlater do be careful not to fall to your doom. If it’s muddy or windy it would be much more dangerous than it was for me on this occasion. Look, the council have even written it in great big red letters underneath the history:
There’s been a lot of barefoot walking along beaches this summer, with friends, with family, much of it between St Combs and Scotstown. And that’s where there do be many shipwrecks to see! Aye, aye, me hearties! Prepare yersels for the photos!
I don’t know the name or date of this first wreck. It’s wooden and relatively small and sometimes entirely covered by the shifting sands that it, no doubt, fell victim to. It’s well bedecked with seaweed!
Closeby is a large metallic boat. It’s usually more submerged than this. I *think* it’s the HMS Erne. She ran aground in 1915 and broke her back 🙁
On this day I got to go right up to it.
And touch the barnacles.
And wonder if that’s a treasure chest…
A bit further on, between Rattray Head and Scotstown, lies a much more well documented ship: the Excelsior of Laurwig, a Norwegian barque wrecked in 1881. It’s rather impressive.
There is another, somewhat different, wreck on this bit of coastline, sometimes to be seen wedged into the sand:
Now, let’s go to Cruden Bay, for the last barefoot walk of the summer!
Trip, trap, trip. trap, across the bridge. To find…
Is it a shipwreck? I’m not sure. It may be part of a defense from WW2. Not very boat shaped!
But it’s a great beach to finish the season and the post on.
The Isle of Skye. That’s the Old Man of Storr in the hills above, a beautiful rock formation visible for miles around. The island is a place of fairies: there’s a castle and a glen and a bridge… but first, back to another rock formation, specifically the one spied from the bedroom window of our holiday house.
‘That’s an interesting rocky outcrop,’ said I to husband.
‘Aye, we should walk up to it,’ he replied.
So we did.
And there was Dun Hallin, an Iron Age broch we had intended visiting but thought would be hard to find. Duns, or brochs, were a complex form of roundhouse, probably defensive, precursors to castles.
I loved Dun Hallin and the surprise of finding it like that. And the wonderful views of Trumpan Point.
Trumpan Kirkyard held surprise too. An ancient standing stone, Clach Deuchainn, the Trial Stone:
Trial stones were used to try a person. In this case if the accused could put their finger in the hole located on the stone while blindfold they were innocent. The stone is undoubtedly far older than this use; it is also known as the Priest Stone and the Heaven Stone.
There were some interesting graves too; these, and the gruesome history of the church can be read about here.
But back to the fairies. Firstly the Fairy Glen, an unusual land formation, which sadly does not have any old fairy folklore associated with it but it does feel otherworldly when you walk round it.
The rocky peak is known as Castle Ewen:
But it’s Dunvegan Castle we need for fairy legends!
Displayed inside the castle, so no photos, is the ancient and tattered Fairy Flag. There are many stories and traditions surrounding this relic and its origins. The tale favoured in the information provided to visitors is the one in which the Chief of Clan Macleod marries a fairy. The couple have a child together but the fairy knows she has to return to her people in Fairyland. She leaves the magical flag, imbued with protective powers, wrapped round the baby, and this she does a few miles away at the Fairy Bridge:
There are also Fairy Pools on Skye but we did not get to them this trip. We did manage a quick visit to Kilt Rock:
We also took in the Museum of Island Life, one of the few places on the island with good mobile internet which meant I was distracted by a sudden barrage of Twitter notifications!
Near to the museum is the memorial to Flora MacDonald:
One more fairy mention: the house we stayed in was previously owned by the writer Aileen P. Roberts, and full of books, so I read her novella Fairy Fire while there which was set in Skye and surprising and perfect.
The sun rises over Dun Hallin:
And sets at Trumpan Point:
Goodbye Skye! We’ll be back!
Broadsea is the older part of Fraserburgh in Aberdeenshire, having been the site of a Pictish settlement and later a fishing community. It still feels distinctly different from the surrounding town, more like a small village, and is a great place for a walk!
From Fraserburgh, we’re heading down Broadsea Road, past all the wee hoosies, right to the end.
From there we’re going left to see the craggy rocks and some paintings. There’s a Lion Rampant on the other side of that outcrop but it’s taken a bit of a bashing from the sea and is rather faded.
Let’s retrace our steps and continue on round the corner to the right towards the cove of Broadsea, the lighthouse at Kinnaird Head just coming into view.
We tiptoe between houses and walk the curving path, passing many old cottages. The new housing development we come to next holds on to hints of the past in the form of various buoys placed along the verge.
On we go. Up to lighthouses, old and new. Great museum and tearoom here if you need a break. Older post with more on the museum and lighthouse here.
A little further along from the lighthouse is The Wine Tower, said to be Fraserburgh’s oldest building. Post on it here.
We can finish there if you like, but I prefer to walk all the way back so as to see Broadsea from the other direction.
So, one last look at The Wine Tower… perhaps a quick run up and down the steps and a peer in the window…
And we return to the wee hoosies.
And Broadsea Road.
The best time of day for a Broadsea stroll definitely seems to be in the morning. Clash with school let out time and you may have sticks and stones brandished at you! For a fascinating read on the 19th century history of the place, I highly recommend The Christian Watt Papers
Buchan Ness Lighthouse in Boddam, Aberdeenshire, shining its light out into the sunrise.
We’ve reached the point in the year, here in Northern Scotland, where light is scarce. It arrives late in the day and leaves early, by about 4pm. But that low sun does some special things, especially at the beach:
And the low temperatures play with ice and colours…
Above is the large sand dune on Fraserburgh beach known as Tiger Hill. Below, a puddle.
Rivers and lochs seem to reflect back more light than you can see in the sky. Morning reflections at Pitfour:
The sun sets in the woods… What sparks of light have you spotted in winter?
Sky. Sea. Sand. It’s been a summer of these. Even on dull days it’s been warm and walks on the beach, beautiful. But I’m donning the tour guide hat again and we’re heading along the Aberdeenshire coast, starting up North and working our way round the corner and down.
Two generations of quines walked the coast route between Banff and Whitehills back in February. We got rained on, but we got a rainbow. And amazing colours of sky and sea. Below is the Red Well, said to date from Roman times, also said to be haunted by an old lady ghost and to be aligned for sunrise sunbeams on the summer solstice. I lived in Whitehills for a short time as a child and remember the beehive shaped building being called ‘the witch’s hoosie’ and kids shutting each other in there for ‘fun’. It’s now locked.
No time to linger, we’re skipping along into summer to Gardenstown and St John’s Kirk. There it is, up on the hill between cloud shadows.
There is an exciting tale of local ladies winning a battle with the Vikings in 1004 by weaponising their stockings with rocks and sand. Three Viking skulls were subsequently built into the walls of the then under-construction Kirk.
Today it’s a peaceful place, though the landscape is probably much the same as it was during the era of battling lassies and Viking warriors.
Time for a picnic, and an exploration of the various bays at New Aberdour.
Let’s lie on the ground and gaze up at the red rocks and blue sky above…
Let’s watch, entranced, as sand martins dart in and out of their nests. Whoops, forget to cover the home made pizza so it’s now covered in sand… Never mind, just time for a poke around in a rock pool before we go…
Okay. Shoes off. We’re going to race along the golden shore at Fraserburgh, getting the sand right up between our toes. If we’re feeling energetic we can climb Tiger Hill, that large dune to the right, and enjoy enhanced views of the beach and town.
A reflective moment.
Calming right down now. We turn the corner. Out comes a book and a bar of chocolate as we sit on the rocks at St Combs.
Walking boots on for this next part…
On we go, past Peterhead, to seek out mermaids at the Bullers of Buchan. There are folk tales of them being spotted here in the Sea Cauldron:
It’s actually quite a dangerous place, cliff edges all round, so do take care.
We’ve come to the end of our coastal oddessy. Just one more stare at that silvery sea at the Bullers, and it’s home for a cup of tea.
Yes, it’s another post about castles! I do seem to find it difficult to write anything without one, or three, as in this case. The first, above, is Delgatie Castle, near Turriff in Aberdeenshire. I met one of the quines there last week and we walked the woods and gardens and encountered these little Shetland ponies looking as if they were waiting for the tearoom to open. From there, we went on to the Auld Kirk-yard in Turriff to see the grave of the late owner of the castle, Captain John Hay:
And then, on the other side of Turriff, the beautiful River Deveron:
Let us pass through a door to another day and another castle…
Near Alford, this beauty is rumoured to be the source for Walt Disney’s fairy-tale castle. It is wonderfully pink and turreted and full of colourful ghost stories. Red John Forbes is supposed to have forced his daughter’s lover, a Gordon and hence an enemy, to jump to his death from The Blue Room window. The window is now hidden behind a headboard but you can make out light through a pinhole. Both Red John and the Gordon boy are said to haunt the castle.
Photos were allowed up on the roof!
But it’s time to skip across the stone mushrooms…
and on to: Corgarff.
A bit more out of the way, near Tarland, but still in Aberdeenshire, is the fortress that is Corgarff Castle. Originally home to the Forbes, it was then burnt by the Gordons and left derelict. After the battle of Culloden the tower house was gutted and rebuilt as barracks for government soldiers (Redcoats).
Inside the star shaped perimeter:
This is how the soldiers’ barracks room would have looked in 1750:
And that’s it. Off out the door you go, but do come back soon!
Gight Castle may be one of the lesser known castles of Aberdeenshire but it has a rich, if somewhat bleak, history with many of its owners dying prematurely. Built in the 15th century by the Gordon family, it was the ancestral home of Lord Byron. A ghostly piper is said to haunt the ruins. The nearby Hagberry Pot in the River Ythan is said to be bottomless and full of treasure!
The quines took a walk. We started in Methlick and strolled through the Braes of Gight woods, across fields and along roads. This was the long way to do it: there is a car park relatively near to the castle. First view:
The castle was surrounded by barbed wire and there were ‘enter at your own risk’ signs. In we went:
Great windows:
We were careful not to wake Sleeping Beauty. Or the ghostly piper.
I was most impressed by this brave little tree:
Then, taking the circular route, we headed off down to the river and tried to work out which bit was the Hagberry Pot. Nowhere looked very bottomless or a good hiding place for jewels, but this seemed the most likely site by the bridge:
The 7th Laird of Gight threw his jewels in there when the castle was sacked by the Covenanters. The poor diver who was sent down to retrieve them floated back up to the top in four pieces. There is a more involved version of this story here, featuring the devil. We did not go in.
The walk back along the river was pleasant, if a bit boggy, with glimpses of the Castle up on the hill.
