Chasing the seasons
|06/06/2009||Filled under Scotland|
Mere photographs do not do justice to the feast nature puts on for us but I try to capture the smallest detail, even this bee in mid flight between flowers of the Viper’s Bugloss (nice photo eh?).
It is our first visit to Arbroath and like many other harbours we enter from the sea not knowing what we will find inside. It is not a natural harbour, but is a small area captured from the sea many centuries ago and now protected by walls of grey stone and concrete. We motor carefully through a narrow channel in the off-lying rocks guided by two white posts set one in front of the other, leading marks, past the tough looking white-painted entrance, make a sharp right turn around a harbour wall then left again into the tiny inner harbour. There is a call of welcome from a boiler-suited harbour master, “Ah, two hulls!” (catamarans are not a common sight here) and he directs us to a pontoon berth just ahead. Immediately we feel at home in this world of fisher folk. This harbour has embraced the new prosperity offered by us pleasure boaters and we are surrounded by masts and clacking halyards on fibreglass yachts; the old has come to terms with the new.
Finally, and this is just an observation, but in common with other places we have visited in Scotland, we find Arbroath richly equipped with public conveniences. We first encountered this unpublicised Scottish phonomenon in Edinburgh last week when we discovered the castle’s own superbly well appointed facilities then, not a stone’s throw from the rock on which it stands, at least two similar establishments. How different from many English cities where calls of nature must go unanswered.
The picture here, I hasten to add, is of Edinburgh’s rock-bound castle, not of the convenience that lies within.