After a three hour drive towards Inverness, we stopped for lunch at a mill and had sandwiches and soup. We then visited a bookstore that was located in a converted church, which we had visited in 2011. There used to be a cafe on the second floor, and I planned to distract Leah with a plate of sticky toffee pudding there while everyone else browsed for books, but without the cafe there it was not to be. After I let her take a few trips up the metal, spiral staircase and noticed the bookshop owner was giving her disapproving glances, I took her to a nearby cafe and brought John along to help. Leah had a bit of meltdown in the cafe, and kept insisting she needed a bag of chorizo and red onion crisps. I tried to get her to settle for a chocolate muffin, but she refused, so we got the crisps, and the muffin for John. At the table, of course, Leah tasted one crisp, then immediately moved on to John's muffin and ate the whole thing by herself. John was a great sport about it, and let her finish it off without complaint.
We got back in the car and drove for another two hours along the east coast, cutting inland at the very end to get to the town of Thurso. This part of Scotland is quite rural, although the temperate climate means the infrequently-traveled roads are in fantastic shape. The drive along the coast was stunningly beautiful, and there were some crazy hairpin turns along the way to keep us on our toes. When we arrived at Thurso around tea time, we were surprised that it was such a large town (population of about 8,000), given its remote location. It seems to be a hub for all those heading north out of one of the small port cities along the northern coast, though, and it has its own wide sandy beach, dramatic cliffs, and lighthouses as attractions as well. We were staying just one night, but I could see how people might use it as a base for exploring the northern coast. We saw a number of cyclists on the way up, and in the town itself, and there's a popular cycling route that goes from John O'Groats to our east and Kyle of Tongue (yes, these are actual place names!) to our west. We were staying at a small guesthouse...one of the few places I found in town that had a family room available that could accommodate all five of us. It was quite affordable, and included breakfast, so I wasn't sure what to expect, and we were pleasantly surprised that it turned out to be a lovely older home that was fully restored, and run by a woman from London named Lisa who wore flowy, colorful robes. Her nephew Jack was visiting her for the weekend, and she had put him to work helping out around the guesthouse. He was quite proud to show us to our large, lovely ground floor room, and point out that he had done all the hoovering himself, and now had a tenner to show for it.After we settled in, we ventured back out for some dinner. We stopped at an Indian takeaway place, but it looked especially formal, even for UK standards (I still don't get that here...), so we nipped in to the chippy across the road. There was a queue out the door, mostly composed of groups of teenagers, so I could tell that Emma wasn't terribly chuffed at the idea of joining the chippy queue. As we ordered, we learned they were out of veggie burgers which means there wasn't much left for her, but she managed with a spring roll that was full of cabbage and corn (!). David and I ordered fish and John had a burger, and we packed up the whole greasy lot and took it to the beach where we had a picnic.
John was pleasantly stunned when he took a bite of his burger, and realized that it had been battered and deep-fried! He says it's now the best thing that he has ever eaten in his entire life!
On Sunday morning, we slept in a bit somehow (very hard to do when the sun rises at 4:11 am!) and woke up to a lovely and huge breakfast prepared by Lisa and Jack. It included eggs with pumpkin-colored yolks from a Thurso farmer, and bread from a bakery down the road, served with homemade strawberry jam and orange marmalade. It was a locavore's dream breakfast, though that's pretty standard in most places in Scotland since they don't have much of an option to eat anything other than local food.
After breakfast, we walked to mass, then packed up the car (there's Leah above, waiting under a tree with my Kindle while we pack) to drive to the port at Gills Bay. We stopped along the way for a quick visit to Castle Mey, though we only toured the gardens and the barns to save on time.
John and Leah spent some time running through the walled garden, and one of the castle attendants wandered over to investigate the commotion. He asked us a few questions, and we chatted a bit. He pointed out a low, misty cloud in the distance (you can see it in the photo above) and told us it was called a "haar" and it was coming in from John O'Groats. We watched it move across the sky for a bit, but it was such a sunny day that it didn't seem too alarming. We then made it to the barns, where Leah and John met some geese that could match their sound level. It was quite the racket as they all took turns honking at each other.
The woman taking care of the animals asked Leah to help wash the ducks feet, and gave the kids peanuts to feed to the caged chipmunks. It's always interesting to see what people in different parts of the world find exhibit-worthy...I'm sure Americans would never take the time out to visit an enclosure full of chipmunks!
Finally, we made it to Gills Bay to catch the ferry, and drove on with our car which we are taking to the Orkneys with us. Leah was moderately interested in the process of getting all the vehicles onto the ferry, and also moderately interested in watching us pull away from the dock. It was quite windy on the top deck of the ferry, though, and John sacrificed his jumper to keep her warm, for which he earned a hug. As the boat cut across the water, that "haar" really started to move in, though, and the sun disappeared. We made a hasty retreat to the enclosed floors below-deck for the remainder of the ride across the water.
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