Findhorn

What a beautiful start to the day this morning. The sun lit the headland, picking out every detail. Out at sea the gannets cruised, suddenly plunging into the water to snatch an unsuspecting fish. On the beach, a curlew was busy sorting amongst the rocks and pebbles, whilst in the distance a fishing boat puttered out into the calm water. What a peaceful start to the morning.

After breakfast, a walk out to the harbour, busy with activity. Then back at Marge, we put the requested five pounds into the honesty box and left the pretty town, passing displays of red geraniums, a flash of colour against pebble dashed exteriors. Right Marge it's all uphill, give it your best! And she did, first gear all the way up. Easy!

Our lunchtime stop was at Portknockie. We know, sounds like a title for a Carry On film. Parking for vans was difficult, but we found a perfect place for Marge above the sea. Offshore snow topped rocks, white from the sea bird's excrement rose from the churning water. We had come to Portknockie to see the bow fiddle rock, a natural arch of quartzite. It stands proudly near the shore. The weather was sunny and the wind buffeted, but we made the most of the day, as we know things are about to change here in the north.

On route to tonight's stop, we called in at Spey Bay, a beautiful coastal reserve with the largest shingle beach in Scotland. It is supposed to be the best viewpoint to spot dolphins on this coast, but alas they were not making an appearance today.

Tonight, we are at Findhorn, a village south of the Moray Firth and near to Kinloss. We are parked, along with a lot of other vans behind the sand dunes. We can only assume the parking is so popular because we are near to Inverness, the start of the north coast 500 route.

Over the sand dunes, a long stretch of white sand is peppered with colour from the beach huts. To the left of us in Findhorn bay with a patchwork of fields as its backdrop. Our walk discovered a fish and chip van at the marina, so that was dinner sorted. The people opposite are showing us how tough they are by barbecuing in the rain. Marge is watching them closely. will the sausages cook before the fire is extinguished? Oh well, we can always recommend a good place to buy fish and chips, they were delish.

Gardenstown

What a night last night, the wind got up, the waves crashed and the rain fell. Marge shuddered in the wind, and we shuddered as well. Before breakfast we agreed with Marge, let's get out of here. So, our breakfast stop, this morning was in a layby on the A90 where, Marge settled happily amongst the lorries. Then onto Asda at Fraserburgh for supplies, diesel and water.

Angela had read on the internet that some Asda stores provided free water at some of their fuel stations, and we weren't to be disappointed, there was a tap ready and waiting for us to attach our hosepipe to. All replenished, we drove through the countryside, passed fields of recently harvested wheat, large cotton reels of gold scattered all around.

We stopped at Aberdour bay to walk to the red sandstone sea caves. In the seams above the cave entrances were abandoned swallow nests, their young long gone. We likened the beautiful scenery to Cornwall and Britany. This place was to be our overnight stop, but it just didn't feel right for Angela.

A local man stopped to talk with us, and recommended we stay overnight in the town where he lived, Gardenstown, six miles along the coast, which is where we are now, right by the sea wall, along with a few other motorhomes and a man with a roof tent on his four wheeled drive vehicle. Will he last the night we wonder, as it's his first night away in it, and the wind is due to increase once again during the night. We are hoping that now we are on a north facing coast it won't be so bad as last night. Late this afternoon we took a walk around to the next cove to the pretty village of Crovie. Most of the properties there appeared to be holiday lets.

After communication from home, we watched the sky turn a pearly pink as the sun set behind the headland. As darkness fell, another walk took us down to the small working harbour, where the sea now as dark as oil, and the surrounding hills the same colour made you shiver with their oppressiveness.

Tomorrow we will continue along the Aberdeenshire coastal trail, but first we have to leave Gardenstown. The narrow roads down to the coves along this coastline are steep, so tomorrow Marge will need to have had her weetabix to get us out of here.

Collieston

This morning a watery sun broke the cloud causing the terns to take flight and the shags on the harbour wall to take an early morning stretch, their black wings like draculas cloak.

Yesterday when we arrived in Arbroath the police drove by the vans twice, this morning the army arrived, word was out that Marge was in town, once around the vans, then stop at the Roasty Toasty for breakfast!

Smokies purchased, we set off for Edzell, a small town where John’s parents lived for a while in the late 1940’s. John’s father worked at the nearby RAF camp.

The house they rented was called Lynnmartin, and it was here that John’s sister Julia was brought home, to, after being delivered at the maternity home in Forfar. After enquiring at the local garage we found the house.

John's mother and sister Julia before the porch was added

The present owner, Cameron, was painting the outside of the house, and was more than pleased to photograph us outside the property, and to hear information about some of the properties previous occupants. By now, it was lunchtime, and we moved to the car park at the park to reheat the smokies in some olive oil. They were delicious, and we were glad we’d stopped off at Arbroath to buy them.

Mid afternoon, we were off again, back to the coast. As we crossed a stone bridge into Aberdeenshire we saw a waterfall on the river Esk. Luckily there was just one space in the small layby nearby.

That’s the joy of travelling in Marge, we can make an impromptu stop whenever we wish. We walked along the riverside path, and down onto the rocks. The tumbling waters the colour of tea, before milk, hastily passed by. What a lucky find we thought, we would never have come this way if it wasn’t for John’s parents.

Our overnight stop is right by the harbour at Collieston, a small cove lies in front of us. Marge is happy, there is another van here for company. Today, we have both been feeling a little bit under the weather, so only took a short walk out around the headland, where the dark rugged rocks sat menacingly.

In the water, jelly fish collected, whilst on the rocks the limpets clung.

The weather is settled now, but we know in the night a change is afoot.