Into the Highlands

The Auld Manse Guesthouse – it is what it is! – a nice B&B run by nice people – its location not perfect – its décor? -  fine but not perfect – its condition? – fine but not perfect – stairs? – yes but not too many! – its parking?- perfectly adequate!

Rise – descend for breakfast – again met by nice people and served a delightful meal prepared with skill and commitment – we checkout – a cheerful offer to bring our bags to the car is gratefully declined.

We were not served a Mocca for breakfast but should that have been the case I am sure it would have been a perfectly acceptable breakfast beverage given that  Nespresso describe a Mocca as being “Foamy, milky sweet and lightly chocolaty”-  But why do I raise a beverage that we neither sought or were offered as part of the Auld Manse Guesthouse’s breakfast offering? – because the hire car sitting in its allocated space in front of the B&B and chosen by Avis to convey us on our 18 day tour of the Scottish Highlands is a Vauxhall Mokka – our experience yesterday of this brand new car is that indeed “foamy, milky, sweet and lightly chocolaty” is an appropriate description of the vehicle – the issue is that such a description is not one that is in anyway complementary when applied to motor vehicle! – The Mokka is a terribly uninspiring vehicle – a small SUV that does absolutely nothing very well – although I must confess there is not much that it does terribly badly save for delivering a turning circle more in keeping with a B-double than a small people mover - Brian Royal would complain with the upmost vigor if anyone suggested that he drive it!

Not having Brian’s automotive scruples, we ignore the deficiencies of our transportation and head off into the Highlands – the Highland Tourist Route from Perth through ski fields to Balmoral Castle and through more ski fields to Inverness – the scenery – the trip – the weather – all combine to make to render us unconscious of the characteristics of our motor vehicle.

Out of town towards Blairgowrie - the Sunday morning traffic practically no existent - just a few of the locals in a hurry to get to church - their Audis and BMW's sit impatiently behind us until a vague straightening of the the road allows them to rush past the annoying tourists.   

Into the mountains - the remnant snow showing on the highest peaks

Up to the first of the ski resorts.

Then down again past the endurance riders displaying the skills that I have seen Knud, Tom Martin, Chris Parker and others display on so many occasions

We approach Braemar and the signs to Braemar Castle - we pass a sign to car parking for the Castle - an open gate leads to the Castle - we enter - we take photographs - we depart to meet an angry owner about to close the driveway gate - we wave and drive past - it serves her right if she was too lazy to close the gate!

We arrive a Balmoral Castle - the carpark significantly occupied - the police vehicles present in numbers - no attempt is made to visit Victoria's folly - instead we photograph the church that the royals deign to walk to when in residence at their holiday house.

We  head off on the narrow link road that connects Balmoral with the Old Military Road - narrow - narrow - twisty.

We encounter motor bikes coming towards us at speed - we encounter a convoy of Porshe enthusiasts who rush up behind and rapidly overtake the poor struggling Mokka - the last in the line - a silver Carerra changes down as he passes and in doing so his steed emits sharp, cracking exhaust note that sends the old car enthusiast confined to the poor old Mokka into a state of undisguised jealousy.

Another ski resort

And down again still on the Highland Tourist Route

We stop for lunch 

The convoy of Porshes have arrived before us and their operators have taken tea at the same establishment as the pilots of the less prestigious Mokka. The Porshes proceed to depart for the next stanza of their Sunday drive - I approach the silver special - the driver looks apprehensive - I signal him to wind down his window - "that car really has a bark" says I - he breaks into a relieved smile "I love it" - says he - "I don't blame you" says I.

Off on our way towards Inverness still on the Highlands Tourist Route.

We approach Inverness

Negotiate the city traffic - find a place for a significant meal - The Beefeater on the Loch Ness Road.

The Highland Bear Lodge at last - as impressive as its pictures indicate.

Bernie and I sit sipping the house whiskey - we relax - enjoy the ambiance of the Highland Bear Lodge - slowly I become uneasy - that Stag with its head sticking out of the wall looks at me - he seems to blaming me for his predicament - his eyes focus on me - no matter how hard I try I cannot avoid his stare - the ambiance is destroyed - we return to our room - we never enter the lounge again!