Jings, crivens, help ma boab, there are so many titles we could have chosen for this blog, as we have so many tales to tell of our recent holibag up North, right at the very tip of Scotland, but we will settle with the above as this was a wonderful start to our journey. And long blog warning flash - it seems churlish not to combine all our stories into one, so if you've not got long, save this one for later, or indeed switch off now, if you suspect we may bore you.
Quick flip back first to the last weekend of September when we hosted our stall at West Kilbride, and the night before, when we gave a talk on unicorns and our journey at the Psychic Harmony Centre in Paisley. Phew, a bit scarey at first, as for anyone who knows one Lunicorn, knows she is terrified of speaking in public. However we both managed it in the end, I just have to slow down my sentences a bit. Lovely vibe there. We will be back.
And so it was then Sunday, and we were off on our adventures for a bit, with no stall to set up, and nothing to do but relax for ten days (well that said, we did manage to sell a few cds into shops en route).
We thought we'd break our journey to Thurso (where we were soon to be staying at a beautiful house of two very good friends)with a stop off at Findhorn village. The weather blessed us, and Findhorn Bay was like a mirror to the sky. The houses were like Brigadoon, no two the same, and all higgledy piggledy in a fairy town style. We dined in the Kimberley Inn before heading back to the Crown & Anchor for a night's sleep ready for our second leg of driving on the Monday.
The next day we visited the Findhorn community and marvelled at the eco houses, popped in to the Phoenix shop, and snuck into The Sanctuary. Now, we've been mentioning Mike Scott's song "Long Way to the Light" lately and in it there is a lyric which reads "I entered the sanctuary, I heard the voice of a girl, sending out a circle of light, clear across the world..."
Yep, you guessed it, it wasn't merely a writer penning a romantic notion....it happened to us too! Wow! The feeling was amazing.
And then with a sharp jolt, as we strolled in the sunshine and breathed in the calm, a Nimrod bomber shot noisily across our horizon, and we got to thinking, was this the yin and yang, and who was there first? Findhorn Community is right next door to RAF Kinloss. Any pointers warmly welcomed on this one, as it's a bit of a puzzle.
So we set off again on our trip to Thurso. Apart from the Berriesdale Braes, the roads are terrific. As we departed Inverness and drove over the very low bridge on the Dornoch Firth, we noticed the lack of speed cameras, roundabouts and traffic lights, sometimes even road markings didn't seem necessary.
We stopped off in Golspie to take a pic of my very best age old friend Lorna's hoose that she was born in.
Then, arriving in Thurso, first port of call was a grocery shop to stock up supplies, and then RELAX.
So once we'd explored Thurso a bit (including taking a pic of another house up the road where our friend Allan was born), we drove to John O'Groats, expecting a wee town of sorts. Not quite, still we popped into the tourist shop there, as a friend had told us it was her family line that owned it. Then we walked to see the stacks of Duncansby. Crikey, one lunicorn was already saying where's the shops, what's with all this walking, and how can we get the tv to work back in the house (we'll come to that later, well why not now, actually!)
Yes, the tv. There was one, but only for watching DVDs, not tuned in. Easy peasy I thought, I'll buy an aerial, and simply tune it. Not so. No tuning would work. I'll buy a tv then and tune that, nope. So after many trips to the Thurso TV shop, I finally realised, maybe I wasn't meant to watch TV whilst I was there. (Did have a secret hand held screen that could be used in dire remote emergencies). So we trawled the selection of DVDS and happened upon one called "13 conversations about the one thing". Can highly recommend and no coincidence that this was what we chose to view, but that's another blog. One line we can share is "Faith is the antithesis of proof".
Dunnet Bay is stunning, other Ms Lunicorn spent a lot of time there chatting to the sea. Spectral white beaches and crashing waves, it's no wonder surfers ride and roll the tides of this bay. And Dunnet Head IS the most northerly point of Scotland, and can clearly be seen on the map, jutting out.
And then it was time for our day trip to Orkney on the H.M. Hamnavoe. Inspired by the words set in the glass on deck "The essence of Orkney's magic is silence, loneliness and the deep marvellous rhythms of sea and land, darkness and light", we set off on the first morning ferry from Scrabster headed for Stromness.
Now with all the island-hopping we've been doing in the name of Lunicorn these past few years, we thought we were seasoned travellers. However Calmac's boats to Arran, Dunoon, Rothesay etc. have nothing on the Northlinks Ferry trip to Stromness. Soberly drunk we struggled to stay upright and THAT was on a clear, calm day. Took us a moment to figure out what these bags were in dispensers everywhere, and then the penny dropped, they were sick bags! Thankfully, we managed to avoid them.
I spent a week in Stromness with friends about 20 years ago, and would you believe it, the very people were disembarking from the same ferry we got on that same very day. I didn't know this at the time, it was only by speaking to a nice bloke called James on the ferry, did I discover.
Lots of pics taken of the Old Man of Hoy, as expected, and Americans taking at least a spoolful in one go. Tricky to spot against the cliffs until you're retreating from it.
As we anchored down in Stromness, a linesman in a yellow hard hat threw his rod over the side, and then literally jumped up and down as his rod bowed and he rung in three huge mackerel. After giving him a thumbs up, we had to turn away as he slapped the fish on the deck, whilst they were still in spasms about to be gutted. Well, what would you expect from a couple of veggies? But it must be great picking waters for fishermen, with the huge propellers churning up the water.
Arriving in the town, we couldn't help but notice the Pay & Display car parking was only 50p for 2 hours, a far cry from city prices. However, we were on foot, and wanted to visit the Ring of Brodgar (standing stones) before the day was over, so we passed a sign for Cycle Hire, thinking it might not be that far from Stromness, and we could maybe use our own leg power to get there.
We trundled doon the steps following the sign, and arrived in what appeared to be somebody's back garden, saw a couple of bicycles, but nobody around. Then we spotted a notice saying "we had to go away, but if you want a bike, just take one and leave the money in one of these envelopes". In the end, we managed to get a bus, but we couldn't help but think, trust breeds trust.
The Ring of Brodgar was amazing and we managed to get it to ourselves for a bit too. Found it hilarious when we got a call from Tir na nOg's Oona on the moby, and we told her where we were....
So, back to Stromness and another trust breeds trust tale. We popped into the Flattie Bar ahead of our ferry trip back. I ordered a Jameson's only to be told they didn't have any but if we popped up to the Stromness Hotel, they would be open and definitely had some. We did, and we're told no, they weren't open, but here was the bottle of Jameson's anyway and we could drop it off at the Flattie Bar. Like a kid in a sweetie shop, I diligently delivered the bottle with not a slug missing to the Flattie Bar. Hmmmmmmmm.
Gets us to thinking if there was less of the "Don't do this and don't do that" and "such and such is Forbidden" then maybe we'd be more like this, where people don't lock their doors or cars and everyone trusts, and to abuse that trust would be a big enough guilt trip in itself.
Also on our Stromness trip we met a lovely lady called Liz in the Waterfront Gallery who inspired us big time with her connectivity and gentleness.
Back at the Ferry Inn in Scrabster, I am in heaven because it has a jukebox (remember them?). It's such an intimate and joyous way to share one's musical secrets, watching others smile (or grimace) at your very own choice of playlist. I chose Bob Dylan's "Hurricane" amongst others and remember how as a child of sixteen, and my school had decided to be a bit edgy(our rector wore safari suits!)and introduce "The History of Rock 'n' Roll" as a module, that I had picked this song to study. My then Greek teacher, Mr Livingston was taking the class and as we discussed it, it has stuck with me forever as a very true story of injustice and racism. Here's a great lyric from it:
"Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties, are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise. While Reuben sits like Buddha in a ten foot cell, an innocent man in a living hell". I won't try to explain what it's about but if you're interested google "The Hurricane" or "Reuben Carter" and see what comes up.
So phew, we did say this would be a long blog. Other highlights include a visit to Holborn Head where the dramatic cliff edges could be perilous on a windy day, lighthouses galore, a disappointing visit to Wick, an adventure at the Campster Cairns, and a walk round Strathy Point. We used our creativity to thank our friends for the use of their house, I wrote a poem and other Ms. Lunicorn drew Holborn Head in charcoal. We met up with them in Tain, as they were heading up to the house as we were driving homewards. Ooooooh the mist on the Dornoch Firth en route was phenomenal, it was liking travelling into nothing, knowing that the sea was very very near on both sides of the road.
And so to our Tain adventure. Well, did we mention that the house in Thurso was beautiful but bathless. Shower, yes, so were clean enough whilst there, but sometimes a deep long soak is needed, maybe it's a girl thing. So we were determined that if we broke our journey back to Glasgow in Tain and stayed over, we had to find a hotel with a bath. Now, there aren't exactly a deluge of hotels in Tain, what with it being one of the cutest towns/villages? we've seen, but the first two we tried had rooms, but none had baths. Someone suggested we try the Mansefield Castle Hotel. Oh dear, we thought, as we headed up the drive, this looks a bit posh. Even more so, when we looked at the tariff (£280 for a suite), still we explained our predicament to Jan, the lady on reception, and she cut us a deal, as they were quiet. Well, wait till we tell you, we only had a suite, didn't we? With a sink each in the bathroom, and wait for it, a jacuzzi. We love you Jan, we think you have the spirit of Joanna Fowler, previous owner, and said to still appear in unsuspecting places within the castle, though now long dead.
Ok, so here's a ticklin' tip to finish on. Don't use bubble bath in a jacuzzi! As I excitedly stepped into a fiercely bubbling bath that evening, and relaxing in the bubbles, I did wonder why I was starting to feel a bit claustraphobic. And then I opened my eyes only to discover I was engulfed by ever rising bubbles. There is, I believe photographic evidence of a sprig of hair appearing from this bubble mass, but that's for another site entirely.
Rightyho, that's us for the noo. Remind us to tell you in the next blog about the amazing weekend we've just had, as we arrived back last Thursday night, and bang, straight back into Lunicorn adventures as of Saturday. But I think that's enough for one reading. Do comment....please.
Ta ta and toodle pip
The Lunicorns
x
