Sunday to Tuesday 17 to 19 August 2025
The domestic rhythm
of our pet sit continues. Kevin the cat comes and goes as he pleases and shows
no inclination for a pat. We know he is alive because his food gets eaten.
Where he sleeps and shits, nobody knows or really cares, as long as the latter is outside. Lady P walks the glens
and mealls each afternoon. Flashy manages to walk down hill to the pub. The
fridge is almost eaten out and the washing is done. Time to move on to the next
destination. In off the black is still a loss, so Flashy is nill two to Lady P
on the billiard table.
Tuesday was pack up
and hit the road day, along the A90 to Fraserburgh. We are staying at the Davron
Hotel just outside of the town, in a little, well to do fishing village called
Rosehearty. The whole town is constructed of grey stone, which matches the
cold, grey of the North Sea that seems to come right up the main street. Apart
from a small convenience store, there is no other commercial activity in the
town, except of course, the Frying Scotsman. That’s a chippy van parked in the High
Street and you can smell the fish frying a block away.
An interesting dinner in the 100 seat lounge Tuesday night and we met an Australian couple from Victoria with whom we shared breakfast Friday morning. They are off travelling the world too, except they’re in their 50’s.
Summer sun on our back yard in Dollar.The tiny fishing boats in the Rosehearty harbour.
Cold, grey North Sea.
Rosehearty beach.
That's where we are.





I had a similar impression of Inverness, cold grey stone buildings, a cloudbase of dark grey clouds about 10 ft above my head and a cold grey drizzle, and that was in the middle of summer. Imagine winter!
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