A visit to a secret beach

Experience has taught me, when Gail announces we're going for a walk to some "favourite beach", not to expect a palm fringed tropical paradise populated with bronzed, rip-muscled surfer dudes and blonde bikini clad beauties...

But I admit I was surprised on Saturday morning when we started at Kenmore, by the shores of Loch Torridon (a sea inlet, you'll remember) and headed inland and uphill.

Even more of a surprise was the fact that, following a rain sodden few weeks, we were finally enjoying a day of crystal clear blue skies and zero mph wind.

After a couple of miles of walking directly south into the low winter sun, our eyes were feeling somewhat dazzled and we were both pleased to descend to our destination, a small loch nestling in the hummocky hills.

Gail then located a little bay, almost hidden by the heather, where the water was edged by a few meters of sand.

"Is this all?" I wanted to bark, but Gail seemed well content with her secret beach. She sat down and took the cheese sandwiches (a big one for her and a small and somewhat dry one for me) and a flask of coffee out of her daypack and exclaimed: "What a lovely and peaceful place, don't you think Bertie?"

I didn't disagree. After all, it would have been churlish to point out the shortage of space for zoomies and the disappointing absence of decomposing marine life...

We stayed there for about half an hour, disturbed only by a solitary hill runner loping past, then walked back to the car, enjoying the views across to Loch Torridon with the sun thankfully now shining on our backs.

Decisions in Torridon

Last weekend Gail and I visited our cottage in Torridon. On the basis of a weather forecast on Thursday, promising heavy rain and gale force winds for the next few days, we nearly stayed in Aberdeen, but I'm pleased to report that Gail decided to ignore the best advice of the Met Office and head west anyway.

You can however understand why I decided not to go for a paddle in the normally calm waters of Loch Torridon on Friday afternoon.

On Saturday the wind had died down and I was most alarmed to overhear Gail and her neighbour Julia discussing whether they might go sea kayaking the next day, rather than taking me for a walk.

Thankfully sense prevailed and they decided on a Sunday morning ramble around the Shieldaig peninsula. At the spot where the pathway divides, we opted to take the right hand trail, thus an anti-clockwise circuit.

It wasn't a fast walk, and there were many 'posing for treats' stops.

Some of the posing locations required careful negotiation of the rocky shoreline. I just point this out so you are aware of the considerable effort that sometimes lies behind the production of my blog.

After a while, it occurred to me to add variety to the photo opportunities by changing the colour of my lower limbs. In areas of peat bog, the colour change thing is not the exclusive preserve of the chameleon. (OK, so we don't have chameleons in NW Scotland, but you get my drift I'm sure...)

Most unreasonably, before we returned to the village of Shieldaig and a bar lunch in the Tigh an Eilean Hotel, Gail decided my paws needed a thorough wash in a clear but very chilly stream.

I would like here to point out to Julia (who is nice, on the whole) that one does NOT appreciate being photographed at moments so disadvantageous to one's dignity!

The cold bath was the first of two poor decisions on Gail's part, the second being that she refused to give me a single morsel of her fish and chip lunch, and I was made to lie quietly beside the table while Gail and Julia munched away, and pretend to be happy with the occasional pat on the head from other passing customers.

PS Some readers may not already know that Julia has a beautiful blog called Hand Knitted Things. Fans of knitting, or Torridon scenery, or sheep, will love her latest post (click here).

Braving the northern waters

If you walk a hundred yards west along the track in front of our Torridon cottage you arrive here.

Gail likes to think this place as our own private cove, although strictly speaking the land is part of a neighbour's croft. In any event, the shoreline is accessible to all, man and dog, but almost no-one apart from the locals know about this delightfully secluded beach where sand is exposed only at low tide.

Gosh it's been hot in Torridon for our visit this week. Yes really! So much so that Gail has going down to our beach for a swim every afternoon and cannot understand my reluctance to join her. To humour her yesterday afternoon I bravely ventured into the crashing surf...

And stayed in the treacherous waters of Loch Torridon* for a whole ten seconds before retreating to the safety of the shore and adopting my best 'now I deserve a treat' pose.

*As many of you'll already know by now, Loch Torridon is a sea inlet in NW Scotland.

Road Trip time with Mad Madi!

Today Blogville is celebrating our dear friend (and esteemed former Mayoress) Madi's 16th birthday with posts about road trips.

One of Gail and my favourite road trips is along the shores of Loch Torridon, eastwards from our cottage on the northern shore then around the head of the loch to the village of Shieldaig on the south side, a distance of thirteen miles by road (although less than two if you have a boat).

For those of you who aren't familiar with the area, Loch Torridon is a sea inlet/fjord in NW Scotland.

The photos below were taken yesterday. As you will see, Spring has yet to arrive in this part of the world.

Oh and this, er, 'tail-end' photo is especially for my most favourite Diva!

Happy Birthday Madi!

PS from Gail: A word about driving safety! The roads around Loch Torridon are almost deserted at this time of year so, just this once, I allowed Bertie the freedom of the passenger seat. There are many places where one can pull off the road and stop, and all the photos were taken from such spots.

Bed-loving Bertie's Blog?

Shall I let you into a wee secret?

Nothing to excite MI5 admittedly. It's just that the whole 'Bouncing Bertie' thing is not, these days, an accurate description of my usual demeanour at the break of day in the middle of winter here in Scotland.

In fact Gail has suggested perhaps I should consider renaming this blog 'Bed-loving Bertie'.

In my view, when a chap reaches middle age, he is entitled to a lie in every once in a while.

That said, once I am up and about, and especially when staying at our cottage in Torridon, there is something a bit special about our early morning rambles.

Or perhaps I should say early-ish morning. Here I am yesterday beside the footpath to Wester Alligin sign at a quarter to nine a.m., and it is just light enough for Gail's smartphone camera to capture my handsome figure posing against the loch in the stillness of dawn.

 

But what about ME!

To start with I was being patient when Gail insisted on taking loads of non-Bertie shots over in Torridon at the weekend...

It was all: "Oh Bertie, just look at trees glowing burnished gold in the late autumn light, the rainbow arching over the loch, the sprinkling of new snow topping the mountains, the handsome stag auditioning for a Landseer painting, oh and wow more rainbows ..."

...but enough is enough, frankly one can only put up with so much of this kind of thing, and I had to bounce over to remind her of the importance of 'foreground interest'...

Now this is more like it. 

[Gail and I did wonder if maybe we should be posting some photos of the less attractive corners of Scotland today, 'cos we heard that if a certain D.Trump loses a certain election on the other side of the Pond, then he is planning to spend more time in this country, and I'll be straight with you, we really don't want him here, ruining our glorious wild landscape with more of his hideous hotels and pesticide-drenched golf courses.]

P.S. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to contribute valuable data for my latest research project. I am currently analysing all the fascinating information provided, and will be presenting my Pee-hD thesis within the next two weeks.

P.P.S. Eight years ago, my wise predecessor Hamish the Westie posted this:  http://hamishthewestie.blogspot.co.uk/2008/11/trumped.html

Gold star for best behaviour?

Between you and me, it can be a bit annoying, living in a household where boasting is not approved of and praise is meted out in puppy kibble sized portions.

"Blowing your own trumpet", "showing off", "being big-headed"; these things are all frowned upon by Gail.

But just occasionally, I feel I deserve at least a pat on the back.

Take Sunday morning for example. We had been over in Torridon for a couple of days, checking the cottage was OK before the winter weather sets in. On the way back to Aberdeen we stopped at the Basil Harbour Café in Nairn.

Gail says it is only recently that she has taken me into cafés "with confidence". She says readers will correctly guess there is history behind that statement.

Well I would like to point out that on this occasion I was as good as gold and as quiet as a mouse, despite the following potential threats to my equanimity:

• The cafe was noisy and crowded when we arrived 
• Bacon rolls and Full Scottish Breakfasts (including black pudding) were being served
• Gail ordered a yummy looking cheese scone with her coffee
• There was another dog present
• I was made to sit in the middle of the café and pose for a photo when the place quietened down a bit

Am I not entitled to brag just a wee bit about my excellent manners?

Oh, Gail thinks you would also like to see a photo of a wintery looking Loch Torridon. I suppose, since I am also featured, you might find it worth a glance.

Can you feel the bone penetrating chill of the damp air?

Rise and shine!

At this time of year, we only get to see sunrise on our morning walk if we're LATE (i.e. it's not a workday for Gail).

So this was last Friday in Duthie Park, Aberdeen.

And these are from Sunday morning near our cottage on Loch Torridon.

East or West, Scotland's best!