Polbain -- The Travelogue

Sunday: Left everything to the last minute so we (Andrew and I) set off about an hour later than planned. We stopped in Aviemore on the way up for a late lunch and to walk Bertie. We met a Great Dane, who made Bertie look terribly dainty for a change. The Dane was too Great to deign to make friends. Also accosted by a woman whose aged greyhound died a few months ago. She had a bit of grief therapy fussing over Bertie, who was deeply sympathetic.

Arrived at the cottage just before dark to be greeted by the owners: "We were worried about you!" They gave us a loaf of bread and showed us round -- what a wonderful find this cottage is. A nice size, extremely comfortable, gorgeous views, all the amenities and right across the road from a very well-stocked shop. Perfect. We took Bertie on a wander then settled down with beer and sandwiches for a good old chinwag.

Monday: Woke up about 10am to find Andrew had already taken Bertie for a walk. After breakfast we went out again, walked along to Achiltibuie where Andrew booked us in to the Summer Isles Hotel for a slap-up meal. Back home for lunch, then off in the car on a tiki tour of the area. Andrew stayed at Rief as a boy but he couldn't find the place. We carried on to Inverkirkcraig, where we walked along to the waterfall and back. No rain!

The scenery is stunning in this part of Scotland, and even better in the autumn - the bracken and heather covering all the hills turns a warm rusty russet. The hills are seamed with outcrops of ancient rock and dotted with lochans that are a stunning deep lapis blue on sunny days.

Back home we washed and changed and went out to dinner. Yum. We sat in a deep sofa in front of a blazing fire leafing through a long, long wine list trying to decide, while sipping pre-dinner drinks and nibbling breaded mussels and mushroom parcels. Then we were ushered through to a comfortable dining room and given our first choice of wine and bowls of thick, delicious smoked haddock chowder. That was followed by goujons of langoustine and monkfish. Which was followed by melt-in-your-mouth roast duck. Then came the cheese trolley, groaning with giant truckles. And finally the sweet trolley, swoon. At last we were back in the lounge for coffee and one final little treat - chunks of fudge. Mmm. The service was superb too -- friendly and efficient.

Tuesday: Time for Andrew to return to calving duties on the farm. We attempted a walk but it rained so we headed south in the car. Stopped at Ullapool for lunch at the Ceilidh Place -- very nice -- and then drove like mad to get to the farm in time to see his folks before I headed back to the cottage. John was there but Jenny was delayed at the museum. Bertie had a great run in an empty field -- he'd not been allowed off the lead because of the sheep wandering everywhere. Jenny arrived just before I left. Drove madly back and got there before dark. Nice lazy evening in (after walking Bertie) watching TV and reading.

Wednesday: It was a nice day, so I dragged Bertie off up the hill behind Polbain for lovely views. The ground is boggy, even right up in the hills - you have to be careful where you put your feet. Peat hags are the worst; they look like solid ground but you can find yourself up to your hips in rotten peat if you're not careful. Peat makes for "clean" mud though, it's not sticky. It was windy on the tops but not too cold.

Came back down for lunch then we were off again on a great long expedition, walking and taking pictures. Lots of low-flying fighter jets as usual. This is one odd feature of hill-walking in Scotland -- you walk for hours, find a gorgeous remote glen, sit to enjoy the tranquility and BLAM! a fighter streaks over your head at the speed of sound. I managed to miss the day's heaviest rain by being in the Highland Stoneware pottery in Lochinver at the time.

An aside here about Bertie's experiences: he loved every minute of the holiday. He loves being out in the country; maximum wildlife, minimum people. He became completely hysterical a couple of times, once in the livingroom when he noticed there were chickens in the field below the house. I put into practice some dog-training techniques I'd seen on television with great effect. After that he would just stand whimpering quietly as he watched the hens running round.

His other outburst was in the car, when he saw sheep walking around loose. Owowowowow!!! Look at that!! But once out in the open air he was more circumspect. After all, sheep are about his size and he was outnumbered too. The local dogs were all manic collies, snarling and carrying on, no friendly city types at all. There was a cat up the road, very thrilling! Also cows, goats, geese, deer and of course rabbits. Most frustrating not getting to chase anything, but lots of wonderful smells. I used the extending lead so he could at least pretend he was running free.

On the way home from the big outing I had a flat tyre drama. The tyre picked up a bolt, which was lucky because it made such a racket I stopped before the tyre actually went flat. I jumped out and watched all the air hiss out of it. Bah! I had my mobile and it was even charged up -- but I was out of network. I called the rescue service from a nearby phone box and it was fixed and we were on our way before dark, hurrah.

Thursday: I woke to the sound of gale-force winds and lashing rain. Lingered over breakfast but finally had to take Bertie out. We walked down to the bay between Polbain and Achiltibuie and back, about an hour in all, and we were drenched through! Spent most of the rest of the day indoors reading while the storm raged. At one point the owner, Iain, popped over to say the woman from the shop had rung to say my car window was open. Village life, eh!

I went for a few more walks with Bertie -- one quite long one round towards Altandhu, another at night, and another after Andrew phoned to say he'd just seen the Northern Lights. I hadn't seen them earlier but Andrew said sometimes they were strongest after midnight, so I went out later - nothing. It was too cloudy. What a shame! I stood peering at the sky trying to convince myself I could see them, but no.

Friday: Time to go home. The street was a hive of activity: I was leaving, and Iain and Eva were off on their holidays, and then the bank van arrived and so did all its customers. Worse than Princes Street.

I had to get back in time to greet a visitor, Fiona, so didn't linger around in the area. I did stop in Ullapool to buy Pinky a birthday present and card -- Ullapool has the best gift shops I've seen anywhere. And I stopped in Aviemore for fish and chips and to post Pinky's present. Got home with just enough time to unload, walk the dog and start cooking a meal.

I want to go baaaaaaaack.....