Loch of Strathbeg

The morning:

There's not many days when you need to wear your mountain trousers, waterproof trousers and goretex jacket. In a bird hide.

Despite the wild and wet conditions, we're back in the van planning another Scottish bimble. I thought the far north of Scotland was too far but, on a trip like this, it's eminently feasible. And I'm quite liking the idea. So the weather can't be putting me off. It never has really! It's fun just to be on tour. But, it was a fine moment when I was starting to chill off in the bird hide and I recalled I had soup in the fridge. 

Soup! 

Today is a soup day. It was no carrot and orange nor gazpacho. It was a properly heart-warming, winter soup of beef, ale, barley and vegetables, cooked with my own fair wallet. Lunch was at 10.30. We've been at the bird hide since 7.30 in the vague hope that we might get a peek of coloured sunrise before the rain. Not a chance! 

While Little Dog was hunkered under my down jacket, I was watching hundreds of whooper swans and thousands of pink-footed geese. Doing the same as Little Dog.  In theory, they take off against a brilliant red sky and you get a magnificent silhouetted photograph. The weather had other ideas and, hardly surprising, so did the birds. 

No matter.  It was fabulous listening to them all. The swans have a lovely call and they did all take off in big groups now and again so a few hours disappeared quite readily.  There were also some wild ponies that help manage the environment that looked quite rugged (but weren't moving much either).

Early afternoon: 

We drove to the second bird hide which was off an old airfield and military grounds. It overlooks the same area but much closer to the loch. A characterful Scot was inside, miffed that he'd walked through a swamp to get here (I passed his car in the wrong place en route) and asked me if I'd come from the bee hive. It was after the third rather embarrassed variation of, 'the what?' that I realised he said the Bay Hide. 

Which I hadn't. 

I'd come from the car park which he was reluctant to believe because I hadn't seen his car there. I told him his car wasn't in the car park and if the white car was his, it was only half way here. After helping him with his bearings so he could avoid the swamp on his return, we mostly went back to our worlds.

Little Dog sat with her back to me facing the door, refusing to lie down for a good twenty minutes but eventually resigned herself to not being able to see anything and had a snooze for a couple of hours.  It was a great place to watch wigeon in their hundreds, maybe thousands, with some fantastic flybys from them, huge numbers of barnacle geese and a few handfuls of whooper swans in the distance. 

Later on:

We headed north to start our journey south west but it was here, I decided I was hungry and how lovely it would be to find a rugged coastline. I aborted a long road that continued onto a narrow track to another RSPB site and plumped for Macduff because of its splendid Scottish name. 

We struck lucky with a road that wound down to the rocky coast where white horses were galloping in. We both had dinner at 4pm and then went for a stroll. The afternoon and evening have been much drier and a touch less windy so it was quite peasant out.  

We found an amazing and huge natural arch and the surprise of the vast but disused Tarlair outdoor sea swimming pool dating from 1931. It looks like it must have been a fabulous venue. Looking up Macduff at home, I've discovered the town was chosen for the TV adaptation of an Iain Banks book (happens to fit my film week nicely!) There were lots of rundown large buildings but it had a splendour about it.

And finally, a couple of hours drive to Aviemore. I'm parked up in the Fell & Rock hut, had some scooby snacks and a couple of cups of tea and now it's sleep time.