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| Woodland by the Tweed above Berwick-upon-Tweed |
On 5th May, my Munros Man headed north for a week climbing Munros, staying with friends in northern Scotland and various SYHAs . I headed north by train the following Tuesday for a one night stopover at YHA York, before taking another train north on the Wednesday to Berwick-upon-Tweed, staying three nights at the recently opened YHA there. On Saturday 12th, I took a train to Edinburgh, then coach to Pitclochry, where I met my Munros Man outside the Fisher’s Hotel, to begin our fortnight’s holiday in Perthshire, staying in a holiday cottage. On the way home, we had an overnight stopover at YHA Arnside.
While we were away, we had some very changeable weather, which I gather wasn’t just confined to Scotland – add hot water bottle and ice packs to the Things to Take on Holiday list. At the beginning of the trip, I left the south coast during a very unsettled, wet spell of weather which had proceeded many months of abnormally dry weather over most of England. For all my time at Berwick-upon-Tweed and for our first week in Perthshire it was changeable, with a few wet days, and cold for May. I believe daytime maxima were less than 10C some days. We went out in winter gear, complete with hats and gloves; our spring / summer wear just sat unused in drawers at the cottage. I was put off more strenuous, higher level walks (3000ft+) by the prospect of lingering snow and ice. During his solo week, Munros Man had to deal with quite a bit of that. The higher mountains in Perthshire, such as Ben Lawers, still had snow on the tops.
It didn’t help that our cottage wasn’t that warm, with a bizarre heating system, coming on at bizarre times, beyond our own control. It was actually the east wing of a country house, with sprawling grounds. One of the more interesting self-catering bases we’ve stayed in, even if not the most comfortable. The owner, a lady with a posh plum southern accent, was around sometimes; the caretaker lived nextdoor in the West Wing. Both came round the first night, apologetic just as we’d found no hot water. The heating hadn’t been turned on in advance of our arrival. Better when it came on; but it was set to come on during the day, when we were invariably out / more active; then, off in the evening, when we felt cold. We then had to make do with electric heaters and a gas fire reminiscent of the one in the first house I grew up in during the 1970s. It was an old house with high ceilings, so would have been expensive to heat (heating / electricity thankfully included in the price) and we only felt warm, sitting close to the radiators / heaters; something I might expect over the winter / in March, but not in May. Further up the hill there was a farm. Sheep grazed in the fields either side of the long, zig-zag sloping driveway down to the river. There were several dogs in the courtyard, including a black Labrador barking for about twenty minutes at a time, whenever we came to the bathroom window facing the courtyard. There was also a cockerel; chickens which looked like cockerels, with the same dark green and rusty red feathers; and couple of guinea fowl. I saw my very first red squirrel in the garden, and several more when we were out and about. These are endangered species, wiped out off much of the UK by the spread of the grey squirrel. In England, they are only found in the Lake District and on the IOW.
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| Ben Lawers from Loch Tay |
Then, early in the second week, the weather changed dramatically: within the space of about two days, the daytime maxima shot up by about 20C. On the Wednesday of the second week, the high at Aviemore was about 27C, not far off Southampton (just under 28C). The warmer rooms at the cottage now felt too hot. Out and about, it was more comfortable on the hills than in the glens. When we climbed Schiehallion, we started walking at 8:00am, thankful to for the mist keeping the sun off for first 900m or so of climbing. As we came down, we saw other people struggling in the heat on the way up. Midges were less of a problem than they had been in places such as Glen Finnan two years ago (again a very warm second week). This was why I wanted to go earlier in May this year, especially for the lower level riverside / loch side walks. Nonetheless, we encountered bugs (probably mozzies rather than midges) at more than 3000 feet (1083m) on the summit of Schiehallion. We ended the trip with gruelling hot two day car journeys. Again we left early, particularly on the Sunday; but it was a choice of cooking in the car with the windows up, or being deafened by wind noise at 70 miles per hour with them down. I came home, pleased we’d had a good, variety packed, holiday, but exhausted from the journey back.
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| The Linn of Tummel |
Overall, a good mix of river, loch, woodland and mountain scenery. Great to see some, fast flowing rivers – the Scottish rivers are in a different league to the English ones; higher rainfall, higher ground composed of harder / tougher rocks, making for waterfalls and rapids – especially after the prolonged drought down south (despite the heavy rainfall in April, this hasn’t gone away – “the current account [no pun intended] is healthy but the savings account is depleted”, as I saw quoted in the Saturday Guardian on 12th May.
The main river was, of course, the Tay, impressively powerful for a British river. Though it’s name changes along it’s course – not called the Tay until it emerges from Loch Tay at Kenmore – it’s the longest river in Scotland; 120 miles from its source on Ben Lui, near Tyndrum in the west to the North Sea (via the Firth of Tay). By the volume of water carried it is the largest river in Britain. Its catchment area is nearly 5000km2. This takes in everything flowing into Loch Tay which is nearly 16 miles long; the River Lyon and its tributaries; the river Tummel and it’s catchment extending to Loch Rannoch. From the central belt, it receives the Almond and the Earn. The potential power of the river was evident at the Grandtully rapids near Aberfeldy (and the flood marks carved into the red sandstone of Smeaton’s Bridge in Perth. Even when it is not in flood, its carries more water than the Thames and Severn combined (figures available at http://www.ceh.ac.uk/data/nrfa/data/search.html). Hence the flooding hazard in Perth, clearly evident in the floodmarks, dating from the C19 - 2006, on Smeaton's Bridge.
During our second week, we climbed Schiehallion and Ben Vrackie; Munros Man added Ben Lawers to his Munro tally, while I sketched the view of it along Loch Tay at Kenmore. Some good lower levels walks, too: a circular walk starting and finishing at Pitlochry, taking in Loch Faskally, the River Garry gorge below Killiecrankie and the waterfalls at the Linn of Tummel ; Weem woods and the Tay near Aberfeldy; Birnam Wood further down the Tay near Dunkeld; Glen Tilt, starting and finishing at Blair Atholl; woods and waterfalls in the Birks of Aberfeldy, they day before we headed home. We left the Highlands today to visit Perth and enjoy the views of the Tay and mountains from Kinnoull Hill. Carl said it was good to take a closer look at the scenery his usually whizzes through along the A9 travelling to / from northern Scotland.
The Perthshire geology largely consisted of metamorphic rocks north of the Highland Boundary Fault: the Dalradian Supergroup. The sediments here were laid down during the Neoproterozoic period (1 billion – around 540 million years BP), according to the BGS 1:250000 Bedrock Geology map, North Sheet (2002). They were subsequently metamorphosed during the Caledonian Orogency, a continental collision / mountain building event occurring around 400 million years ago. There was some quartzite, as we saw on the summit and ridge of Schiehallion. South of the Highland Boundary Fault, around Perth, there was Devonian Old Red Sandstone; Kinnoull Hill consisted of volcanic rocks extruded during the Devonian period.
We ate well and drank lots of tea, frequenting cafés at the Pitlochry Festival Theatre – art exhibition, too; the Birnam Arts Centre; lunch one wet day at the Moulin Hotel near Pitclochry. We made five or six visits to the Watermill bookshop and café on the Moness Burn in Aberfeldy, buying books, various teas and cakes. Upstairs in their art gallery, an exhibition of abstract work by Wilhemena Barns Graham.
On the way home, made over two days, the overnight stopover at Arnside at the end of the holiday was a relief from all the hot car travel.
Day-by-Day
Tuesday 8th May
Overnight stop at YHA York. Have done York well/enjoyed it before, usually staying at the YHA. This time, though, I found the city and hostel too busy 2012 and all that, perhaps - more tourists here in the run up to the Jubilee and Olympics. I'm glad I was only there for one night. I I found the River Ouse, and reflective - little more than a week ago, it was in flood, videos to prove it on youtube. There was little sign of that today, though I saw someone hosing down the paving slabs near Lendal Bridge as I walked from the city centre to the hostel on my arrival on Tuesday afternoon. It was on flood warning again after more rain later in the week.
Three nights at Berwick upon Tweed, travelling by train from York. Refreshingly, after the busyness of York, it was fairly quiet around the town and at the hostel; though the Thursday was very wet. Thankfully, the hostel was open throughout the day, meaning I could shelter and sketch in indoors after walking along the river in the morning. Friday was dry, the the river Tweed was very fast flowing and rough after all the the rain. I sketched along the river and in the woodland upstream from the Royal Border Bridge (the railway viaduct).
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| Royal Border Bridge - Berwick-upon-Tweed |
An easier day in and around Aberfeldy. First of all, we went to the Watermill, when we had had a cup of tea and cake on Saturday and somewhere we with frequent several more times during our stay. For now we looked round the bookshop. We then went down to the river Tay, crossed General Wade's Bridge; and turned left to walk along the river. From there, we took the path taking us past Castle Menzies and uphill into Weem Wood. We followed the path up to saint David's Well and Weem Rock, enjoying the trees and wild flowers along the way. Spring was gets later up here, so the bluebells were still flowering and the leaves on the trees still looked fresh. From Weem Rock there were queues of the river Tay and cross the bridge to Aberfeldy. Among the wood, worsened subtle stone carvings: we spotted a dinosaur like creature with an ominous eye which might have been a gruffalo from the children's books. A bit further on, there was a griffin.
We headed over to Pitlochry, parking at the Festival theatre, I was doing a circular walk taking in the hydroelectric dam on the river Tummel, Loch Faskally, the river Garry below Killiecrankie, Clunie power station and the waterfalls at the Linn of Tummel. Crossing over the dam, we walked along the eastern shore of Loch Faskally; with the junction of rivers Tummel and Garry and Clunie power station on the far side. We followed the Garry into the gorge below Killiecrankie, where there was a high bridge carrying the B8019, mixed woodland with trees growing on the steep crags and dark inky water. After crossing the footbridge upstream of the road bridge, we walked down the Garry on the right bank and into the woods at its confluence with the River Tummel. Here we saw a red squirrel; then, after lunch by the Linn of Tummel waterfalls, a kingfisher. We crossed the Tummel above the falls, the river here being constrained by an outcrop of harder / tougher rock, and followed the road behind Clunie power station. We then passed the memorial arch, constructed from the 7m diameter concrete pipe used to transfer water, in memory of the five men killed during the construction of the Loch Tummel hydroelectric scheme in the late 1940s / early 1950s. The road back to Pitlochry contoured around the hillside on the western shore of Loch Faskally, giving us good views over the loch. After the walk, tea at the Festival Theatre cafe.
Wednesday, 16th May - Perth and Kinnoull Hill
Headed south across the highland boundary fault to Perth, in the Central Belt (Midland Valley), geologically speaking. We parked along the road near a disused quarry in the Devonian volcanic rock making up Kinnoull Hill. We followed the paths through the woods to the viewpoint at the top of the hill - warnings of the steep drop of the crag on the south side. From here, there was a view north to the mountains north of the highland boundary fault and south towards the Ochil Hills and the river Tay widening towards the Firth of Tay. Among the mountains, Munros Man pointed out Schiehallion, Ben Vorlich and Ben More in the northwest; Lochnagar and the Cairngorms in the northeast. There was still quite a bit of snow on the higher peaks. The round viewpoint signpost gave the height of the hill as 729 ft [222m], latitude 56o23'20''N, longitude 3o23'12''W.
We then headed down the hill into the city centre, crossing the river Tay via a footway on the railway bridge, the river here dividing into two channels around an islet. We then strolled along the western bank of the river towards Smeaton's Bridge, built from Devenian Old Red Sandstone conglomerate. Floodmarks dating from the C19th, most recent January 1993 and December 1993, were carved into the sandstone on the north side. Prior to the building of Smeaton's Bridge, a succession of earlier bridges were swept away by floods. The flood defences have been upgraded (probably since the big flood in 1993), incorporating a flood wall along the stretch of river paralleling the city centre and several large gates to hold back the water, particularly near the war memorials in North Inch park. The peak discharge in Perth (volume of water), measured cubic metres per second, during the 1993 flood was 2269 cubic metres per second , on 17th January 1993; the height of the river was nearly 6.5m above normal (both figures for Perth, from Wikipedia, River Tay, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/River_Tay , accessed 06/06/12. The highest daily flow rate at Ballathie (between Dunkeld and Perth) was more 600 cubic metres per second, again during the 1993 flood (CEH, National River Flow Archive http://www.ceh.ac.uk/data/nrfa/index.html). These figures would have been much higher, but for the hydroelectric schemes in the catchment, including those in the Tummel catchment at Pitlochry etc.
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| Smeaton's Bridge |
Art work and sculpture was incorporated into / situated close to the defences, including the gates themselves. A flock of strangely shaped animals on top of a section of the wall; a bird with a fish just downstream of Smeaton's Bridge. We had our lunch on a bench just above Smeaton's Bridge. I did a quick sketch here, but it was too chilly to sit around outside the very long. We headed then, to a café for tea and tea cake, photographing the arty flood gates at the entrance to the North Inch park. I later walked along the river in an awful inch park, where walkers, dog walkers, cyclists coexisted with golf and playing fields. Generally on this trip, we found access to the River Tay - a prime salmon river - very good - unlike along the exclusive salmon chalk streams of southern England. The problem with parking where had done, once we had to walk back up the hill, a climb of about 200m - we had another look at the view at the top; but this time got a bit lost on our way down to the road where we'd parked.
A couple of wet days, they Friday was drier in the afternoon. On Thursday we went to Pitlochry, where we looked round the hydroelectric dam exhibition and headed up the hill to the Moulin Hotel bar where we had lunch and Munros Man enjoyed the Braveheart beer, brewed in the small brewery nextdoor exclusively for this hotel and another one in Blair Atholl. They were open fires in the bar, looked as if it was mid winter, it felt a bit like that outside.
On Friday morning at the cottage, I added some colour to the sketches I had done during the week. Then in the afternoon, we headed out to Glen Lyon, driving on the narrow winding road for about 11 miles to the gallery at the Bridge of Balgie. Crossing the bridge, we did one of the walks suggested in the guide which Munros Man had picked up in the car park. This was on the Meggernie Estate, taking in waterfalls and Woodland and views over the Glen. At the top of the hill, there was a clearing with views over the mountains. However the top of Ben Lawers the still covered in cloud. We then found a way down to the northern end of road long the Ben Lawers Pass - memories of the cycling saga here on a family holiday nearly 30 years ago.
The striking out and back walk of about 10 miles along Glen Tilt, starting and finishing at Blair Atholl. The walk was along a traditional Scottish Right Way, ultimately leading to the Linn of Dee. It followed the River Tilt for much of the way, a tributary of the Garry; the higher part of the Glen being the most attractive. The rocks here were metamorphic, part of the Dalradian Supergroup, though appeared to have steeply dipping bedding planes, sometimes jutting out into the riverbed and constricting it, to form rapids and waterfalls. Views of the Munro Ben A Ghlo.
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| Trees by the Tay near Kenmore |
The first bright day during our time in Scotland. I walked and sketched along the shores of loch Tay and the upper river Tay between Kenmore and Aberfeldy. Munros Man meanwhile, climbed Ben Lawers, taking in three other Munros. We made an early start, Munros Man dropping me off at the loch shore at Kenmore. First, I followed the road along the south side of loch and took the path up hill passed some houses to the Falls all Acharn, passing the Crannog Centre; a crannog being an early Iron Age round hut with a thatched roof, built out onto the loch, on a pier. I sketched the waterfall, then back on the loch shore, I sketched the view west along the loch towards, the cloud now clearing over Ben Lawers. I thought of my Munros Man up their tackling the mountains; still patches of snow on the higher slopes. Ben Lawers is the highest mountain in the area at 1214 m, (3983ft). Though it was now warm and sunny, I felt chilly in the cool breeze along the loch.
Leaving the loch, I walked into the village, past the Kenmore Hotel and the gates of Taymouth Castle. I've then crossed the bridge where the river left the loch, from here on taking the name of the River Tay. I then joined the riverside path along the north bank of the river, passing a chalet park, became more hotel backing onto the river on the other side. The path then entered woodland and went up onto slope above the river. Passing a monument to my right and golf course on the left, I sat and sketched some trees overlooking the river. Where the river past Taymouth Castle, there will rapids; the bridge to the castle grounds still closed. Clambering over a large fallen tree, I continued along the path, at the foot of Drummond Hill, then along the road for the remainder of the way to the Comrie Bridge over the River Lyon. I then followed the river Lyon to its confluence with the fast flowing Tay, the two rivers merging either side of a stream of boulders. From here on along the river Tay into Aberfeldy, gentle stretches of water alternated with faster stretches. I did a quick sketch by the river, but his time was getting on, I had to rush this last bit. At about 5.15pm, Munros Man texted me to say that he was off the mountain and waiting for me in Aberfeldy, at the Watermill, having climbed four Munros.
An easy day after Munros Man's strenuous day yesterday. Essentially, we repeated what we did last Monday around Aberfeldy, this time during the walk up to Weem Rock through the woods first, and the Riverside walk to the bridge later. In contrast to the cooler weather last week, its now felt very warm and a bit sticky. After the walk, an early tea at the Watermill.
Climbed Ben Vrackie, a Corbett (2757ft), east of Pitlochry. From Pitlochry, headed up the hill past the Moulin Hotel and parked in the car park further up the hill. We climbed out into a clearing, with views of the mountain, then up to a loch with an earth dam. From here, a steeper second half of the ascent to the top, still on a very well made path. It hot and sunny, though there was some breeze - one of the earlier risers, now coming down from the hill, warned us that the top was "a wee bit windy". Clearly a Scottish understatement, as it was blowing a gale when we got up there. Though it was a bit hazy, we enjoyed views south along the Tummel valley below Pitlochry, towards its junction with the Tay; the valleys of the Tummel and upper Tay separated by Dunfallandy Hill. Higher up the valley, Loch Faskally and Glen Garry. To the northeast with Ben A Ghlo, the still very snowy southern Cairngorms and Lochnager. Schiehallion was to the west. On our way down, we took a different, more fiddly path around to the north end of the loch, getting a bit lost trying to wiggle our way back round to the path back down to the Moulin car park. Cold drinks, followed by tea in the Festival Theatre cafe, overlooking the River Tummel, its anglers and the hill we'd climbed. The busy town and heat were a bit of a shock after our walk. The hoards of coach parties and general touristy grockle were off-putting. Not for the first time, I wanted to revolt against this and try another higher level, rugged mountain walk before we went home.
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| Cathedral ground by the River Tay, Dunkeld |
A rest day between two rugged days on the hills. However, it was oppressively hot in the sun, all the more in the glen of the Tay at Dunkeld. Thankfully plenty of shade in the delightful Birnam Wood along the river. Spent most of our time here, strolling among the trees, looking out for signs of the Highland Boundary Fault. We saw the Birnam Oak, which features in William Shakespeare's Macbeth and the younger (300 year old) with an even bigger trunk, next to it. After sweating across the bridge, to have a quick look at the Cathedral and town, a welcome cold drink and cake in the cafe at the Birnam Arts Centre. Also an art exhibition of very luminescent oil paintings by Allan George Henderson.
Made an early start for Schiehallion, to try and beat the heat, heading to the car park on the northeast side of the mountain, walking from 8:00am. It really helped that it started off misty - we couldn't actually see the mountain from the car park when we set off; though the sun threatened to burn it off. Thankfully, it persisted while we climbed the steep first 900m of ascent to the ridge. It then began clearing, though didn't completely clear, giving us views looking down through broken cloud. It remained hazy all day, blocking views of the more distant mountains. There was a good path up to the ridge, the mountain owned by the John Muir Trust, but it then petered out when we got to the ridge of blocky quartzite. We just about managed this in our trainers (with ankle support - didn't feel like heavy boots in the heat), but it was a bit borderline. It took us about three hours to get to the top: view north down to Loch Tummel, Loch Rannoch and Kinlochrannoch in between. To the south Ben Lawers, still some snow on its north facing slope. Even on the top, the forecast temperature (daytime maximum) was 17C, about 10C higher in the glens; and, even at 1083m (3553ft), there were bugs - more flies and mozzies than midges, but they made it too uncomfortable to linger long at the top. All morning we had the mountain to ourselves, only seeing other people as we came down from the ridge, many of them struggling climbing the steep bit in the full sun. Back at the car at about 1.45pm, glad we hadn't had to endure that. Then, to Aberfeldy and the Watermill, pleased to got up there, exorcising and exercising the ghosts of the moody teenager who refused when Dad tried to get me up there during the Bryce holiday.
Friday 25th May The Birks of Aberfeldy and Grandtully
A lower key, easier day to end the holiday, visiting the Birks of Aberfeldy, enjoying the birch trees, wildflowers and waterfalls along the Moness Burn. Then, a final visit to the Watermill cafe. On the way back, I took a quick look at the River Tay at the Grandtully rapids, glimpsed from the road on the north side of the river. According to Griff Rhys Jones in the Scottish episode of Rivers, broadcast on BBC2, 2009) the correct pronunciation is “Grantlee”; as if the fast flowing river could only be bothered with two syllables? This is classic venue for canoeing and slalom competitions. I was able to get down to the river near the bridge, though it was too hot to stay out in the sun for too long. Though the rivers was lower than it had been last week, the rapids - formed where the valley narrows and the gradient visibly steepens - still looked impressive. The white water racing past the rock I clambered out onto, testified to the power of the river Tay. Back at the cottage, a welcome breeze, keeping the midges / bugs away, so I was able to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine (seat in shade) in the grounds.
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| Arnside |
Home, south: two days in the car, in the burning heat, if not that deafening wind noise with the windows open :( . After the relative peace and quiet of Highland Perthshire it seemed very crowded everywhere.
Got to Arnside about 3pm, glad to get out of the car, seemingly just missing the bore. After dinner at the YHA in the evening, returned to the estuary to sketch and enjoy the sunset.
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