I only stayed in Lossiemouth because Elgin was all booked up yesterday for some reason. Lossiemouth is right on the coast and the weather had cleared up by the evening, so my seaview room was a great place to watch the sunset, as well as the fighter jets coming in to land over the bay to the RAF base up the road. Right opposite the hotel is Moray Golf Club where John Murray is the PGA pro, someone I know from and have drank with every year at my old company's trade show. It really made me think that the show is one of the things I will miss the most from work. Not the standing around for 8 hours during the day saying the same shit over and over again, but the socialising in the evening with these guys who I'd never have gotten to meet in real life otherwise. I popped in for a bit of a chat this morning, sadly probably for the last time, before making my way south.
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| A lovely night in Lossiemouth... |
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| ...and a lovely morning too. |
I stopped off in Elgin for the biggest pancake breakfast I have ever seen. After a little wander through the town, I continued down the road to Dufftown, as the Glenfiddich distillery tour had been recommended to me. It was really interesting and they let you try some 12, 15 and 18 year old Glenfiddich at the end of the tour, although I was gutted I couldn't touch a drop. The cute blonde girl who took my group on the tour made up for it a bit though. I think she liked me as well as she flirted a bit with me and hardly said anything to anyone else. OK, so they were all French and didn't speak any English, but I'm still having that!
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| No one can say this in their own voice |
Continuing south, I drove through the Glenlivet estate, which really looked nothing like anywhere else I've been. The hills are leopard printed with multiple shades of green and purple, and the road ascends and descends in winding sweeps through the valley. Stopping off at The Well of the Lecht, I followed the freshwater stream that runs between the hills on foot up to the Lecht Mine; a shell of a building now which was once the largest Manganese mine in Scotland (I know, yawn). For 50 years from the 18th to the 19th century, the isolated braes in Glenlivet housed numerous illicit local whisky stills. The whisky was then smuggled using remote hill tracks, with the path I had taken being one of the many 'whisky roads' that still run through the Ladder Hills.
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| The hills of Glenlivet |
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| The old mine |
Still heading south, I arrived at Balmoral, famed for being the Queen's favourite holiday home when she's taking a well-earned break from doing sod all. The weather was beautiful once again, and I enjoyed wandering the grounds and stretching my legs in the sun. I sat on the lawn looking over at the castle with a sandwich I'd bought from the cafe, which, judging by the price, the Queen had made herself. The scenery around Balmoral and Braemar is really spectacular; if only there had been a place to stop and take a photo, I'd be showing you a picture of THE ideal Scottish landscape, with the River Dee glistening in the foreground, the snow covered peaks of the Cairngorm mountains far in the distance and the Forest of Glenavon sandwiched between them. In fact, I'm just going to steal one off the internet.
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| Balmoral |
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| The Cairngorm Mountains |
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| Sorta the image I wanted |
Travelling over the Devil's Elbow by the peak of The Cairnwell, dropping deep into the green and purple valley of Glen Shee, I headed along probably the best road I have ever driven on in my life. Seemingly designed by a drunk 5 year old, it was more like a rally circuit than an A road. Always sensible of course (mum), it was still a challenging and exhilerating drive; accelerate, break for a blind summit, change down, hard right, change up, brace for humps, sharp incline...a Nissan Micra wouldn't have been able to stomach it. My stomach almost didn't.
Finally I made it into Perth, where I have an evening of food and Glenfiddich planned. Well earned, I think.
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