Dateline: Strathpeffer, Ross and Cromarty, Highlands, Scotland

Bit of pretension in that dateline for a place we mostly refer to as the Strath, a Victorian spa village popular after the discovery of sulphurous springs there in the 1700's.  As in much of Scotland, development was linked to the extension of the rail lines to Dingwall in the 1860's and then a spur from the Kyle of Lochalsh to Strathpeffer in the 1880's.  The spa hospital burned in 1946, and sulphur isn't what it used to be, so the Strath is now a quaint village of 1,469 souls featuring distinctive Victorian architecture, as well as a golf course with this unique claim:

There is a scenic golf course, which boasts the longest drop from tee to green of any course in Scotland.

It does that drop (and rise) several times, so not for the faint of heart....

Wednesday presented in grim fashion, grey with rain that was heavyish at times and a forecast that proved eerily prescient.  Last year we took a long walk back through the hills with Elsie and their son Ross and his family, wife Dace and son Sebastian, who was carried a good bit of the way.  The walk was designed to end at Coul House, a beautiful county house hotel where we enjoyed a delightful light lunch and coffee.

In view of the weather, we eschewed the physical exercise and simply drove there for a coffee.  This doesn't do it justice, but it's quite a lovely spot:

With a break in the weather, we took a wee walk to Rogie Falls:

The water is brown on account of peat:

Peat is an accumulation of partially decayed vegetation or organic matter. It is unique to natural areas called peatlands, bogs, mires, moors, or muskegs.

Once used for heat, it's now being replaced by offshore wind farms, and the big issue in the Highlands these days being the intrusive transmission lines through these bucolic glens.  But that's an issue for another time.

Yesterday we noted that the weather forecast called for a clearing at time suitable for our planned BBQ?  Well, if you can't believe a weatherman, what can we believe in these crazy times?  But, sure enough, this was our sky as John fired up the grill:

And what a barbie it is:

Quite the thing, though I won't need to eat again until we get down to Fife....  

The meal ended with the back half of the pudding (that term is used for desserts in general):

No clinical definition can do it justice, of course:

Banoffee pie is a British dessert pie made from bananas, whipped cream and a thick caramel sauce (made from boiled condensed milk, or dulce de leche), combined either on a buttery biscuit base or one made from crumbled biscuits and butter. Some versions of the recipe include chocolate, coffee or both. Its name, sometimes spelled "banoffi", is a portmanteau combining the words "banana" and "toffee"

It's simply divine, and I'm not even that much of a pudding guy.... Let's just leave it that banoffee pie is proof of the existence of a benevolent deity.

What might our plans be for today?  Well, here it gets exciting for your humble blogger.  The morning is looking scary nice, we don't trust blue skies in these parts.  But this was the view an hour ago from Elsie's kitchen window

Even a bit brighter right now...

Ross, Dace and Sebi are headed our way, and we shall be trundling North To The Links of....well, that place.  That reference is to this classic piece of the Master from 1964, unfortunately no longer available online, though we do have this wee summary:

THE SPORTING SCENE about a golfing holiday in Scotland, & brief account of the early days of the game. A little over a century ago the traditional feather-stuffed golf ball, in use for over 400 years, was replaced by a ball made of gutta-percha. Up to that time golf had been played almost exclusively in Scotland, but the new harder, more durable ball changed this. Golf became a universal pastime, currently pursued by some 15 million devotees. Scotland has nevertheless continued to be regarded as the golf country. There are many visitors each year to its celebrated championship courses. They are: Prestwick, Troon, Ailsa, Gullan No. 1, Muirfield, North Berwick, St. Andrews and Carnoustie. On his recent tour the writer visited some of the comparatively unknown courses with his friend, Sam McKinlay, editor of the Glasgow Evening Times. Their destination was Dornoch, far up in the north. On the way they played at Nairn and the little course at Golspie. The writer thinks very highly of Dornoch and describes it with enthusiasm.

Yes, Herbert Warren Wind thinks highly of Dornoch in the sense that I think highly of...well, banoffee pie.  I did reread the piece before leaving home and Employee No. 2 did as well.

I did just grab a quick peak at the Met Office weather forecast and, well, what was I thinking?  Good thing we weren't planning a BBQ for tonight.....So grateful for all the effort, especially since Ross had a brutal work schedule yesterday and a zero dark thirty airport run, so fingers are firmly crossed..... 

Tomorrow we head down to Fife.