The Journey North.  Day 12.   Thursday 3rd May 2018

From: Culloden, Morah Firth       To: Helmsdale   GR: ND026155     Mileage: 74

The morning sun was encouraging but was not to last. Away in the distance we could see the bridge that joined South and North Kessock, spanning the relatively small channel that separates the Moray Firth and the Beauly Firth. That bridge, took the A9 further North towards Wick and John o Groats. Our intended route. We were soon to cross it but first we needed rations and fuel. We had spotted on the route into Culloden yesterday afternoon a Tesco Metro and here is where we would shop. Feeling slightly guilty as I felt as a tourist on a route designed to bring more trade and sales into the highlands I ought to be spending in a local shop. The trouble is cost. Yes I know the argument you are about to put forward but on fuel for instance there is a 10p per litre difference. Similarly with the mark up on foods.

Another eighty pounds of diesel was put in the tank. Rations, including four cans of Thatcher’s Haze and some Fevertree mixers for Jackie’s gin amongst the more mundane items such as bread, milk and cheese was loaded and we were off. 

 Here the countryside is fairly flat pastureland a happy change from the high mountains we have been travelling in these last few days. The A9 after crossing the Black Isle then drops down to cross the Cromarty Firth bridge. Looking East we can see seven or so ‘oil rigs’ they might be gas. They might even be redundant awaiting dismantling as this is besides the Beatrice Oil Field. We drove on headed for Dunrobin Castle. Jackie has need of a cream tea here. Passing Tain we note on our left the Glenmorangie Distillery. This was established in 1843 by William Mathieson. Today the distillery has eight tall stills as opposed to the more usual round pot stills. Tours here as in most distilleries are available. 

Following the signs for Dunrobin Castle we turn into a long drive, edged with numerous daffodils. This late in the year they are still looking good. Must be the colder weather up here. Back home, down South they have been finished for a month or more. We park up and pay our £9-50 senior citizens rate to John at the door. He is an elderly gentleman. Resplendent in a tartan kilt, probably that of the Clan Sutherland, complete with dirk in his stocking. Or is it his sock?

The house, it’s oldest part of which is a C14 keep has been added to over the years and enlarged. It was used as a naval hospital in 1915 when a fire was started in the old music room and much of this part was refurbished with major alterations in 1919. 

On arrival we were told that the Falconry display was about to start on the hour at 1400hrs. We made our way out of the castle to the grounds below in the walled gardens and took a seat on the long wooden benches. I have seen a few of these Birds of Prey displays over the years but Andy the presenter was absolutely first class. A wealth of knowledge and a ken sense of humour together with great presentation skills earned him my thanks on completion and an opportunity to shake my hand. He had more of a North country accent, not strong and lived on the estate, breeding falcons and Harris Hawks two birds of which he flew for us today. He had been doing this since he was eleven and he was now forty-seven. I asked did he have a promotional DVD but he said no but wished he had a pound for everyone that had asked that question. “Well then there’s a market for it surely!” “Aye but ma birds take up all ma time.” What a splendid chap. I told him I had driven 700 miles to see his display and would gladly drive that distance again next week to see him again. Indeed I would.

 A cold wind had started to blow in off the Northern North Sea, with the completion it was time for Jackie’s much awaited cream tea. We entered the tea room on the ground floor of the castle. The request for two cream teas raised many questions. The first of which was “What’s a cream tea?” “It’s what you advertise in your brochure.” “Oh really. What is it then?” we explained “Scones, jam and cream. Sometimes with a tiny triangle of salmon or cucumber sandwiches all served with a pot of tea.” “Och, we have all of that. But, na tagether.” the young girl replied, face as straight as a die. I turned away to hide a smile and was caught by an equally young waitress looking at me. I couldn’t resist it. I said “It’s like being in a foreign country.” In as gentle a way as I could. “Aye, we get a lot of you foreigners up here!” By the time I turned back to the counter Jackie had persuaded the first waitress who was serving us to place all the aforementioned articles on a tray and we would buy that. “We could always call it a cream tea I suppose.” I said to no one in particular as the young lady promptly filled to ramakins with whipped cream from a piping bag. Jackie seeing the look of horror on my face turned and speaking quite sharply said “Don’t even mention Rodda’s.”

          
  We took our ‘cream tea’ into the Fire Engine room and sat by the log fire munching away contentedly. Nice scones, pity about the cream.

 The self-guided tour around the castle completed we made our way back to the truck to continue towards Helmsdale. This small village, isolated for centuries was once a salmon fishing and curing station. In 1814 a brand new village was constructed by the Duke Sutherland to help house those who had been displaced by the Highland Clearances. The very fact it was he who instigated the clearances in this part of the coast is still held against him even today. I made a mistake saying that at least he was a Scottish Laird and no English . I was told in no uncertain manner I was wrong he was English but married the Countess and thus became Laird.

It was into this village beside the river and with its small but still active fisher boats that Mike and Jackie drove.

We pulled onto the car park beside the river Helmsdale and decided here was where we would spend the night.