Monarch of the…Ben?

After a slow start, mainly because I had neglected my soigneur duties and failed to get the laundry sorted in time, Ben finally hit the road and I went exploring on some smaller routes before joining up with the A9. Tourist websites for the area mentioned that the BBC programme (and grandparent favourite!) Monarch of the Glen was filmed at nearby Glenruim House. I wanted to nose around, but there was no chance of getting close –all roads were marked ‘private’ and the trees obscured the view. I carried on through Laggain, Newtonmore and Kilgussie where quite a few businesses sported ‘official Monarch of the Glen’ stickers in their window. I then thought I should get my act together and do a few chores –laundrette, petrol, food shopping and bike stuff for Ben.

Heading over the bridge above Inverness I was reminded of all the holiday time spent in this area when I was little, especially seeing signs for Cromarty Courthouse and Strathpeffer. I distinctly remember coming back into Inverness over the bridge after our family trip to John O’Groats, 14 years ago (maybe more?). Driving out to meet Ben I passed another reminder of the holidays years ago- a very strange collection of rags in the trees near Clootie Well. Rose and I used to be pretty scared of this bizarre site, made the more creepy by our Auntie Sylvia’s assertion that photos taken of it didn’t develop. In the days of film cameras there was at least some suspense, but it was never true (and it still isn’t….I checked –from the safety of the van-!) The site seems to have multiplied in size in the intervening year and I’m still unsure of the significance of it (edit- Wikipedia entry and more info here!). It was very strange to just stumble across it again.

Clootie Well, nr Munlochy

After lunch in Munlochy Bay I carried on over stunning bridges across Cromarty Firth and Dornoch Bay. Arriving at the campsite was a staggering change in scenery- mountains still loomed in the distance but our pitch faced sand dunes and a glittering sea.

Around Dornoch Bay

The town of Dornoch reminded me of a French or Belgian town where a main street opens into a wide town square. If this was Europe there would be tables and chairs everywhere, but North East Scotland in May hardly made it likely. Instead I found a wonderfully cosy restaurant where the landlady was in thrall to serving Ben and doting on him. The food was ever so good (and homemade, as she told us about five times!) and it was really encouraging to have someone so in awe of Ben’s achievement, even though she said lots of people seemed to stop there who were doing the same thing. I think it was Ben’s time of 9 days that impressed her most; she said it was usually 12 or 14 for cyclists. Ben has taken the whole thing in his stride without any problems (so far, touch wood!) and so I keep forgetting what a big achievement this is. I felt extra proud when we left the restaurant to waddle back to the van .

Dish of the day: Cullen Skink –haddock, potato, leek and cream soup, absolutely delicious and very filling. I’ve eaten it twice in as many days and am determined to have it anywhere it appears on the menu for the rest of the trip!