Menondering; I Do Like A Wall Or Two

On Monday, I told you about the visit to Drum Castle. The walled garden was the highlight of the morning. There is a good variety of shrubbery on display, but the main focus of this garden is roses—specifically, heritage varieties. You might guess that I have a photographic overload! I have now created a sub-folder for this blog's post images dedicated to flora and I will eke those out over the weeks so that we carry a little bit of the summer with us into the fast approaching autumn and looming winter. (I mean, really, is not this year going at light speed??!!)

The garden at Dun House had felt very ... tailored. Clipped and curated to within a seed of production. It was beautiful, no doubt about it. However, I found myself rather more relaxed in this one. It may have been the rose-scented air that had something to do with it, but it was, I think, also because roses lend a more 'blousey' relaxed appearance to the scenery. There were ornate bits - like the paved centrepiece above and the gazebo...

Then there was the sundial. It took quite a while to work out exactly what was going on - indeed, it was only because the lady standing in the centre read the small print that we determined the purpose of this sunken patch.

There was a plaque with the names of several months on it (April to September, I recall), and by standing on the relevant month (July in this case), the shadow would fall at approximately the time of day. At first she thought it was wrong - but I reminded her this had been created before BST was introduced, so it was accurate to GMT, give or take 15 minutes.

That last one is the main flower shot for today - not roses, I know, but still rather gorgeous, donchya think?

Before I left the grounds, I got diverted by a little side track - following that inner compass again - and found this...

The Irvine clan are the heritors of Drum, and the fence is around their burial plot. The stones you see in front, though, are for a number of pets (presumably dogs). 

Oh, and to see who has been paying attention, what do you suppose is the origin of the name Drum?

Menondering; The Art Of The Journey

In the early days of this blog, I ran a 'dictionary' so folk could translate my titles; it became onerous, and stats showed it not really being consulted. Mostly now, I recycle a few basics, and then the subtitle advises what you might expect from the post. Occasionally an entirely new creation appears. Today, though, I return to a full description of the keyword - for menondering has been around since the early days and relates, as you might deduce, to meandering.

That is the bit of van life from which I derive one of the greatest pleasures: waking up in the morning and making a decision about which direction to go. Perhaps some planning has taken place the day before; perhaps not. Maybe there are two or three options on hand to reduce the entirely random. But random is okay, too, and can offer up some great experiences.

Make that the bit of Life. I have been a roamer since I could walk. A dromaniac, remember! 

After the lovely day and restful night by the River Dee, The Grey and I menondered a few miles up the road to Drum Castle. It is on the list for the National Trust for Scotland and right along the general direction I was heading. 

Given that the weather was continuing to present as summer, I again opted not to take the internal tour and instead admired the building from the exterior, though I did take the opportunity to enter the chapel for a few quiet moments.  I had a short woodland walk just because I could and admired the mighty playground of castles and frames created from some of the wood naturally gathered from the property; that was possibly the busiest part of the entire estate! Yelps of joy and voices filled with adventure and wonder drifted over from this place, and one couldn't help but smile.  After the woods and chapel, I headed down to the walled garden via the pond...

...oh but that was just a tease. I am saving the walled garden shots and one or two others for Thursday's post! Be sure to return for that.

Meanwhile, I will say that the single disappointing thing about my visit here on this day was that "Mary's Larder" turned out to simply be a small, wheeled cabin that was running out of food supplies even by 11:30... very poor planning on a school holiday in summer. I left then and drove another few miles north to stop by an ancient monument and make my own lunch. When visiting the site, I was greeted by the farmer's dog, who clearly understood her role as guide and guardian!

The possibility of spending the night on that layby did cross my mind - however, there was a surprising amount of traffic and the road narrow, so decided instead to head up to Dalmadilly Ponds. I spent two nights and one full day there - not venturing down to the ponds themselves, as it was quite a hill to negotiate. I did, though, have fun watching the almost endless stream of people turning up to go swimming and paddle-boarding, kayaking and, in one case, scuba diving, plus fishing and picnicking ... and playing the chanter and drums! A happening place, Dalmadilly.

It was also one of those places that happened by the random and unexpected—a proper delight. I did, though, have to keep in mind that the main purpose of pursuing the back roads of Aberdeenshire was to get back to Macduff Aquarium for the last weekend. The days were moving along.

Menorgysmy; Forest Bathing

Having left Edinburgh the morning after the choral recitation, my time was cut out for me. I had arranged to meet Arti in Dornoch by June 20th. This left me with four nights to find park-ups and travel the nearly 200 miles. Yes, I could have done it all in one day - but that's not how I roll. (This gets challenged, but more on that soon.) I've mentioned before, but reiterate, the maximum driving time that suits me on any given trip is 90 minutes or between 25 and 40 miles. This is to avoid fatigue and enjoy the places around the parking spot.

Admittedly, the first place on the way north could have been more picturesque. Cowdenbeath is one of the many Scottish towns that once thrived on mining but have struggled since. It does not have a particularly fine reputation. However, I opted for this because I needed another charge on Grey's battery, not having taken on power since leaving Stepps (Glasgow); the cost in Edinburgh was 53p/Kw compared to Fife's 15p per unit after a connection charge of £1.75 so it made sense just to drive to the next county and charge there. That said, the charger at the leisure centre gave me a complete top-up for gratis, zilch, and nada. It cost me nothing! Only a few days later did I realise there had been no invoice for the session. The centre was closed for upgrading and this was the only reason that could be determined for why the tower had not registered my session. Moreover, the car park there proved to be just fine for sleeping overnight. In the morning, it was a short drive to the supermarket to top up the groceries. I would certainly use this as a stopover again.

From there, I drove up to Dunkeld to visit The Hermitage. I wanted to start making proper use of my new shiny membership of the National Trust for Scotland. 

What a magical mystery tour I had among the trees and their roots. Had I read the board before setting off, I may not have made much of a walk, but I didn't, and as a result, I ended up with a nearly four-mile outing! The Rolls-later dealt with the very rough, uneven, occasionally boggy path very well, and I did take a couple of breaks, using the seat with gratitude. 

Leaving the car park, one first goes under the railway bridge.

The river Braan moves briskly along the banken from the path, and at first, the walking pulls one in, being relatively flat and uncluttered. 

If you visited the blog on Monday, you will have seen a few images from this beautiful forested area. The whole place is a nature folly created in the 18th Century by John Murray, Duke of Atholl. It was mostly inspired by and created in honour of a hermit bard named "Ossian".

There are plantings of many Douglas Firs, Scots Pine, Oaks, Aspens, Ash, Birch, Beech... just to name a few... creating a mighty canopy which successfully cuts down the light and temperature. 

About half a mile on, one particular stand on a bend in the watercourse forms what is referred to as The Cathedral. You saw one angle on that in Monday's post. The photo here today is from the 'altar' end. There was confetti on the ground from a recent wedding. This is a regular event, apparently. There is certainly no lack of dramatic romance in the setting!

As I contemplated the extremely dodgy steps leading up from the 'vestry' to the path that would take me to Ossian's Hall, I recognised them as one challenge too far. I would have to retrace a quarter mile and then rewalk that quarter to the point at the top of the steps, thus creating my first mile before even reaching that more traditional folly construction. Whilst making this calculation, I looked down and found that I had the company of a Bank Vole - right between my feet!!! I couldn't get my camera out and working in time, so I enjoyed this mini encounter and the value to my heart for sharing this moment.

Ossian's Hall and Ossian's Cave were built circa 1760. The hall has a balcony right above Black Linn Falls.

The 'cave' required a further mile and a half of walking over a rougher path. It passed some fabulous grottoes and fascinating little side paths. Finally...

It actually would make a grand meditation space! 

There was more walking to be done beyond this, but I had to accept that the return walk would be quite enough. As it turned out, I took a wrong turn, as well, and instead of a closer to three-mile return, the dog-leg track ensured that it was closer to four. I'd wandered onto the working logging track and had to jump into the ditch at one point to avoid being flattened by a flying truck! I wouldn't have minded settling in for the night, but the small car park here does not permit overnighting. I also required my next battery charge, so it was on to Newtonmore. The charge took until eight, and I had to make my tea right there in the car park. After this, we drove up the back track up the hill.

A perfect sleep there before getting back on the road. Stopped at Inverness for an energy top-up (security only, not really needed), then over the Kessock Bridge and up to Munlochy, on the Black Isle. The park here did me for two nights, as I needed a day of stillness. Used it for blogging and housework. Then came Thursday morning...

...TBC...