Is This Our Haven September 24, 2006
Is This Our Haven September 24, 2006
We woke this morning to wet low hanging clouds and a drizzling rain. After a fine Scottish breakfast, which for me included haggis, we left the Barony Castle and continued our northward journey toward the Scottish Highlands and a much needed rest. We crossed the Forth Bridge Road over the Firth of Forth (try saying that) a long inlet from the North Sea, on a bridge that took us through the mist and past the last major population center between us and our destination. The roads were good all the way to Aviemore where we stopped to do a little grocery shopping as well as find Holly a paint by numbers, a jigsaw puzzle a French Language course on CDs. She plans to stay busy during our week of relaxation.
Twelve miles or so north of Aviemore we found Old Clune the manor that Mrs. Boles calls her summer home. Mrs. Boles is a gregarious lady and a self admitted lover of Americans. She welcomed us into her home and we talked for an hour or so with her and Veronica “her wee friend” that has been visiting for a fortnight. Mrs. B is a full six feet tall while Veronica would need to stand on her toes to reach the five foot mark. Mrs. B told us how she had married Mr. Boles and moved to Australia with her new husband who was in the navy at the time. Mr. Boles was on the first British ship that called at Hiroshima after the bomb and later developed problems due to exposure to the radiation. We are staying in Mrs. Boles cottage Strathnoon which is a further two miles past her home down a single track gravel road and through two stock gates. The cottage is at least a mile from the nearest dwelling which is on the other side of the valley across the river. This is a “Sporting Estate” that was purchased by Mr. Boles grandfather in the 20s and featured grouse and pheasant shooting as well as salmon and trout fishing. Mrs. B said she would send Walter, the ghillie (fishing guide, game keeper/manager), around in the morning to tell me if conditions are right for fish. They caught quite a few last week and with rain today and the river rising tomorrow should mean good fishing. I hope so as this may be my only chance to fish for salmon in Scotland.
The cottage is rustic with thick stone walls that have been whitewashed. With the kitchen and a small sitting room downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs it is cozy and snug against the chill and rain of the afternoon. Thanks to modern technology I sit in a comfortable chair a million miles from anywhere, with my attention divided between this blog and the Ryder Cup finals that are playing on the telly. Strathnoon is set about a hundred yards above the River Findhorn in a valley that when we arrived late this afternoon was shrouded in mist. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. This is the Highlands I have always read about.
We woke this morning to wet low hanging clouds and a drizzling rain. After a fine Scottish breakfast, which for me included haggis, we left the Barony Castle and continued our northward journey toward the Scottish Highlands and a much needed rest. We crossed the Forth Bridge Road over the Firth of Forth (try saying that) a long inlet from the North Sea, on a bridge that took us through the mist and past the last major population center between us and our destination. The roads were good all the way to Aviemore where we stopped to do a little grocery shopping as well as find Holly a paint by numbers, a jigsaw puzzle a French Language course on CDs. She plans to stay busy during our week of relaxation.
Twelve miles or so north of Aviemore we found Old Clune the manor that Mrs. Boles calls her summer home. Mrs. Boles is a gregarious lady and a self admitted lover of Americans. She welcomed us into her home and we talked for an hour or so with her and Veronica “her wee friend” that has been visiting for a fortnight. Mrs. B is a full six feet tall while Veronica would need to stand on her toes to reach the five foot mark. Mrs. B told us how she had married Mr. Boles and moved to Australia with her new husband who was in the navy at the time. Mr. Boles was on the first British ship that called at Hiroshima after the bomb and later developed problems due to exposure to the radiation. We are staying in Mrs. Boles cottage Strathnoon which is a further two miles past her home down a single track gravel road and through two stock gates. The cottage is at least a mile from the nearest dwelling which is on the other side of the valley across the river. This is a “Sporting Estate” that was purchased by Mr. Boles grandfather in the 20s and featured grouse and pheasant shooting as well as salmon and trout fishing. Mrs. B said she would send Walter, the ghillie (fishing guide, game keeper/manager), around in the morning to tell me if conditions are right for fish. They caught quite a few last week and with rain today and the river rising tomorrow should mean good fishing. I hope so as this may be my only chance to fish for salmon in Scotland.
The cottage is rustic with thick stone walls that have been whitewashed. With the kitchen and a small sitting room downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs it is cozy and snug against the chill and rain of the afternoon. Thanks to modern technology I sit in a comfortable chair a million miles from anywhere, with my attention divided between this blog and the Ryder Cup finals that are playing on the telly. Strathnoon is set about a hundred yards above the River Findhorn in a valley that when we arrived late this afternoon was shrouded in mist. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. This is the Highlands I have always read about.
posted by Gary and Holly Davis @ 10:26 AM
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