If I ignore the first few hours of yesterday morning when it was foggy we are enjoying our third successive day of brilliant sunny weather. Yesterday I had to get some stuff scanned to prove to the Department of Work and Pensions that I was still alive. It’s only nine months ago that they were kind enough to let the NHS pay for a CAT scan. Great, it proved that I was almost dead. They obviously decided to check. I had to send a copy of my driving licence. I was castigated for smoking at last years interview but did try and explain that everyone has a bad habit or two. At least my smoking can only harm me and the dogs, every packet pops over £7.00p into the exchequer to fund MPs excesses and the more I smoke the faster I will die. It’s win, win for them.
I digress; in the Tourist Information Centre, it’s where you go to get things scanned, signed and stamped to say they have had sight of the original document and me; they have a Puffin Camera feed. I could see nothing moving on it so the lady re-booted it. It made no difference. I could see grass and a few white flowers. This morning I decided to set off early, well sevenish, to see for myself.
I have always stretched the truth when I say I’m at Durness I’m actually in Durine. Durine is a place and I didn’t miss the apostrophe out. This old shed is made from local stone and wriggly tin. I like the variation in the stone. The dark bits are Lewisian Gneiss, the white bits are limestone and the pink bits are Pipe Stone or Quartzite. A building made out of two rocks over five billion years apart in age……I find it amazing. Easily amused. Just past this shed I turn right.
Mum and son. He wanted to talk to the dogs but she called him and took him away. I love foals with their woolly tails. On we plodded, the dogs soon stopped chasing rabbits, it was too hot for them to bother.
The wee pole to the right is the web cam. I suspect it doesn’t work. Even if there are puffin here they would be too far away for a good picture. Miles away they are, it takes me an hour and a bit to get here.
We wandered down to Balnakeil Bay. This is grand but only a half mile long. The dogs were desperate for a drink so I put them on the lead. They know not to drink sea water but when they think they need a drink will risk it. The result is immediate and impressive projectile crapping.
We got to the end of the beach and they drank and drank form this little burn that flows out of Loch Croispol. The ruin is of the ancient church of Balnakiel. Somebody famous is interred here. I’ll pop back when I’ve remembered who it is and the light is less harsh.
That’s all for today.