Mull of Kintyre

Like all civilized people, I have of course seen the music video for Paul McCartney's masterpiece . So, being in the general area, I thought I'd take the opportunity to visit and see what the fuss was about and maybe try and find the place where the video was shot.


I drove as far as this first rise in the coastal (single lane) road along the mull, which is a Gaelic term meaning promontory, headland or hill. It is a windswept, barren area but I fooled myself into seeing the beach down below as the place where they shot the video.




One of the locals was eyeing me with a great deal of skepticism.


As I didn't really think I'd be back here again anytime soon, I decided I had to sing a little bit from the song. Why I've never been offered a record contract is beyond me.

Skipness Castle & Seafood Cabin

Today, I first drove down the Great Glen and then the west coast route by Orban and down to Kintyre, the peninsula known for its close association with Paul McCartney and also for the so-called Mull of Kintyre Test, which sadly is just an urban legend. Again, almost as soon as I hit the peninsula I had to contend with the goddamn single lane roads.

My first destination for the day was Skipness Castle. One you reach the end of a long, boring, single lane road, there is a parking lot off to the left. I dutifully parked there, emptied the ole' bladder (I have once again started on the pills which made me go in the Kruger Park last year) and started trotting up the road to the castle. After less than fifty yards, my legs were cramping so badly I just had to stop and turn around. So, instead, I drove all the way up to the castle and parked almost right outside the entrance. Not a soul with any official badge was around, so I figured I was ok.

This little building stands right by the parkway up to the castle.


From outside.






Inside:


This was the last day of the season one could walk up into the the tower of the castle; it's closed from Oct. 1 and reopens April 1.


I only managed the first level.


I still knows how to find 'em.


Looking up.


The Kintyre area was among the first traditionally owned by the Steward clan before they ascended to the throne of Scotland. They had to fight both other Scottish clans and us Norwegians.


Sheep graze and pheasants... do whatever the hell pheasants do. Peabrained birds.


After a brief perusal of the castle grounds, I retreated to a table at the Skipness Seafood Cabin, just down the road. They had a 50% discount on lobster rolls, since it was the end of the tourist season. So I ordered some.


I first tasted lobster on Iceland back in 2012, and it was quite good. With generous helpings of mayo and lemon it became a feast.


I even stuffed face on second helpings. Then I ordered their orange cake for good measure. I can highly recommend both.


The resident four-legged doofuses laid siege to me from the moment I sat down.

The North

Sunday has been a long, partially slow drive from Wick across to Thurso and then down the west coast to Ullapool, then across the country to Drumnadrochit. There have been long sections of single lane roads with some meeting places scattered along the way to allow for passing by or for meeting traffic. The skies have been dark for the whole day, but there are some nice views to be had along the route.

North of Tongue, a manmade barrier crossed a bay, creating a small lake to the left.


Video.


In these parts, you make your own entertainment.


There are some grand valleys up there. Behold this video.


I have always wondered where this valley goes off to. *dreamy sigh*


Oh, single lane roads, how I hate thee.


At another place, someone had built a house in a very nice location.


Naturally, I was skeptical of The North.

Going up north

After the photographic feast that was the road to Glen Affric, I sat course for the "true north", the coastal road up to Wick. I'd gone it both ways before, but it was a few years since my last venture. Mostly, I didn't really go back to any of the previous places, largely on account of the rain pissing down most of the day. But I did visit the ole' Clootie Well on the Black Isle. That people in all seriousness can make avail of such a place in this day and age beggars belief and I can only hope it's one huge, ironical joke.

The beginnings of the area around the actual clootie well.


Video of the whole sordid thing.


Naturally, I was skeptical of the clootie well.


In Wick, I had lunch at this strange combination of a diner/cafe and a casino. It had a dining section, but also a small booth where you could buy all manner of candy and there was a fairly large section in the back where different machines gave off a cacophony of insane sounds; everything from a mechanised sounds of children's laughter to "toot toot" train sounds best associated with old Disney cartoons. Not exactly the type of sounds that should accompany a meal.


The burger I had was ok.

To Glen Affric

Today, I started out towards Glen Affric. I'd never been there before, but it was supposed to be lovely. After a few minutes I reached the small church of St Ninian's, by Loch Meiklie. The waters of the loch were so tranquil and there was mist all around. Take a look for yerselves:



A small platform down by the water, perfect for a BBQ in the summer if you ask me...


A panorama pic of the loch, my first! (Ok, you gotta click on it...)


A solitary sheep in the field next to the churchyard.


The mists of Avalon...


The other end of the lake.


What a place...


I then drove on to the cozy little village of Cannich. Just before the village, there's a field where the mists were very photogenic...




Finally, I drove up to Glen Affric. These pics are from near Dog Falls. In a stoopid attempt to get some much needed exercise, I parked the car, paid 2 pounds, walked across the bridge and started climbing a long, steep, winding slope. Half way up, I admitted defeat and trudged down again. At the parking lot, I looked at the signs and discovered that I had taken the wrong path and had been walking up towards a viewpoint. Wail, wail. I drove on along River Affric and the views very mostly very nice. However, you never even reach Loch Affric, because the road is closed to "unauthorized vehicles" at that point. Le sigh.

River Affric. I walked up to the left of this picture and had traversed most of the hillside before giving up.


Downstream. This was where I should have walked. I'm an eejit.


I did manage to get a pic of this lovely pine.


Farther up there road, there were several little views like this and the sun was often out.


Loch Beinn a' Mheadhoin is used for hydroelectricity, so the water levels vary.


Some cunts (I bet they're German) had built a "peace tower" on one of the beaches.


I promptly tore it down. These towers are a blight on the landscape and the ideology behind them is leftist mumbo-jumbo.


The only glimpse of the Loch Affric area that mere commoners such as myself is allowed. At least iffin we want to use a car.