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My Favourite Place in Scotland
What
a difficult task the Out of Doors Programme and Scottish Book Trust have set.
To
write about 'my favourite place in Scotland' sounded simple enough, until I
actually started to think... Just what is
my favourite place?
I know – Orkney!
I've been only twice but long to go again: birds, sealife, incredible
coastal cliffscapes. Gentle inland farms, numerous small isles.
Ancient history, archaeological digs. On the Brough of Birsay tidal
island it all comes together as fulmars and rock doves glide and dive
around sheer flagstone cliffs. A wheatear flitted amongst the stones
of the 12th-century monastry (built atop a 9th-century Viking
settlement). There's a Pictish stone there that's older still.
The Ring of Brodgar
stone circle - Jennifer and I cycled here aided by a powerful
tailwind. Returning to our Bay of Skaill cottage the tailwind became
a headwind too strong to cycle in. Mrs Poke's husband collected us in
his farm truck. In nearby 3,000 year-old Maes Howe chambered tomb the
Historic Scotland ranger mistook us for a married couple, discovered
we weren't and offered to perfom the ceremony there and then. The
awkward situation was averted when I pointed out that we had no cake.
Rackwick Bay on the
Isle of Hoy - Stopping part way at the huge Dwarfie Stane - what
apart from faerie magic could possibly have so crisply carved its
two-celled interior? The walk from Rackwick to the Old Man sea stack
- mountain hares in mahogany-grey-white summer coats watched us
intelligently. Great skuas -bonxies- circled overhead. At the
headland fulmars wheeled below and beside us.
In Kirkwall we
marvelled at the red sandstone of St Magnus Cathedral and had hot
chocolate and a kitkat each in a quiet church cafe.
In Stromness we ate
wholemeal pasta in the living room of our hostel and played Scrabble
as the evening sky darkened outside. Quirky buildings, giftshops and
galleries of the cobbled main street. Elegant stringed instruments in
a window near the museum. Artist Tim Wootton in his wildlife art
gallery - told me of a Sandhill Crane sighted on a nearby island.
Cycling out of the town to look at fossilised wave-ripples on a
flagstone shore. From a derelict gun emplacement I sketched a distant
lighthouse and watched curlews that flew low across the waves.
That's Orkney.
I
also rather like the area around Montrose, where my mum has a static
caravan. Miles of pristine white beaches, river estuaries, red-earth
landscapes. Just walking up the dunes from the caravan you spot
eiders and cormorants, guillemots and gulls. In spring and summer
terns flap balletically and scree scree their creaking calls as they
dive for little silver fish. Come here if you're into birds - the
Scottish Wildlife Trust's Montrose Basin visitor centre overlooks the
tidal lagoon. One evening they led a dusk walk and a brown hare came
leaping and bounding towards our group, closer and closer through
stubble field, completely unfazed. We listened to pipistrelle bats on
electronic detectors then walked in the dark to the old Bridge of Dun
where a tawny owl glided silently away towards a group of barns.
In woodland above
the Basin a ruined mill offered its treasures in the stream that
bubbled below what must have been a midden. Coloured glass and copper
buckles, pitted and greening. Clay marble stoppers to keep the fizz
in lemonade and a glass jar with three bears prowling around its
sides - one little, one middle, one large. A white doll figurine less
than an inch high - to carry in a purse, or hide in a special steam
pudding?
Yes, Montrose is the
place.
Or... what about the
north-east coast, between Aberdeen and Peterhead... The cliffs are
what you go here for. Arches and caves and a giant stone-walled
cauldron known as 'the pot'. A mile or two north of Cruden Bay are
the ominous ruins of Slains Castle. You can see why Bram Stoker was
inspired to write Dracula here. The drop from the tallest tower is
the height of the castle then the same again, down near-vertical
rockface to crashing waves below. On a spring day I painted here and
counted 15 bird species in an hour. Short-eared owls flew to and fro,
rising from coarse grasses to quarter over field and cliff. One came
directly towards me and hovered above for a few wingbeats before
uttering a single shrill shriek and flying back the way it had come.
I don't know whether or not I passed its test …
And seabirds nest
all around - razorbills and kittiwakes, guillemots and shags, lesser
and greater black-backed gulls. Fulmar and of course the iconic -and
comic- rainbow-beaked puffin. My best ever views of a peregrine
falcon - a lone bird sitting surveying the grasslands. I sketched it
over and over before it flew to the cliffs to give me perfect
close-up views of its cadmium yellow talons and eye ring, its puffed
white chest speckled with dark and that wonderful but terrifying
hooked bill.
Shortly after the
peregrine I heard far below a splashing blow... A whale! I looked
just in time to see a long blue-black shape slide below the water,
heading north. Rushing that way I saw its dark mass break the surface
several more times, ploughing a straight line through calm water.
Finally the curved blades of the tail flipped right up vertically
before the whole thing disappeared completely. It must had dived.
But wait, I nearly
forgot - Linlithgow, my hometown! Our winter starling roost in the
station monkey puzzles, and the springtime displays of great crested
grebes on the Loch...
Oh dear.
Is it cheating to
say that Scotland is my favourite place?