Walking on roads round the Moray Firth from Cromarty to Nigg Ferry would take three days, given my lower daily mileage on hard surfaces to avoid a reoccurrence of shin splints. When I set out on my coast walk, I wanted each day to be an adventure and, most of all, to be fun. Three days of road walking is not fun. There’s a ferry between Cromarty and Nigg Ferry, but it does not run during winter, so I will jump ahead to Tain tomorrow, returning next summer to hike the missing section.
I’d hoped to explore the caves and cliffs north of Rosemarkie. Unfortunately, the tide is against me and this must wait for my return visit, leaving a relatively short walk today. The good news is I now have time to visit a fairy glen and who could resist that?
The A832 out of Munlochy is busy with little verge to walk on, so I’m happy to turn off on a minor road to Avoch. The Silver Darlings — herring apparently — mosaic is inspired by the lives of the Avoch fishing community in the late 1800s and early 1900s, particularly the role of women, created under the guidance of Fortrose community artist Sally Purdy.
The Black Isle Railway ran from Muir of Ord to Fortrose from 1894 to 1960. The old section from Avoch is now a pleasant woodland walk.
Drum hay bales lie scattered at the base of the incline up to farm fields, a testament to the strength of the winds blowing across the isle.
The wind roars through the sheltering trees overhead, showering me with copper leaves.
Several joggers pass in the opposite direction, some wearing only t-shirts despite the cold. I’m getting soft, swaddled in layers. They have plenty of places to rest, all sympathetically designed to blend in with the landscape.
This seems like a good spot for chocolate.
A nearby sculpture bears an inscription, presumably from a famous poem about the Battle of Culloden, which took place not far from my walk earlier in the week.
The railway walk ends with a descent into lovely Fortrose. I’d not expected to find a cathedral tucked away behind the main street.
Bakhoos Bakery provides a microwaved quiche that acts as a pocket warmer for the exposed trek out to Chanonry Point, a popular spot for viewing dolphins in the Moray Firth.
Several cars are parked, sensible people waiting for dolphins in the warmth, as I hunker down against the bitterly cold wind. The dolphins are keeping warm somewhere else.
The eastern side of the ness is sheltered from the wind.
A shingle and sand beach sweeps round to Rosemarkie. A white horse gallops on the hard sand. Staring, I stumble into one of her deep hoof prints, earning a smile from the rider.
The sun is setting, but I want to explore Fairy Glen and ask a local for the best way onto the trail.
He pulls his coat tighter and crosses himself.
“You don’t want to be up at Fairy Glen when the sun goes down.”
Actually, no one has ever said that about a fairy glen — Blair Witch Falls perhaps.
A sign warns that the path is impassible due to a landslide, but it’s too late to find another route, so I push up the pretty glen.
The reason for the warning sign is soon apparent, a severed bridge presenting a watery barrier. Fortunately, a fallen tree and a delicate balancing act see me safely across. It might be a little more tricky returning in the dark.
There are two sets of falls in close succession. The first is my favourite, sitting on a rock next to the pool until night falls.
The Fairy Glen was once the scene of a well-dressing ceremony, where the children of the village decorated a pool, next to a spring, with flowers. This was said to ensure that the fairies kept the water supply clean.
(Walkhighlands)
When it becomes too dark to see with night vision, I switch on my headtorch and leave the waterfall for the winding trail back through the woods.
Rustling in the trees. The cry of a bird. The beam from my headtorch casts shadows and I swivel to glance behind me, initial bravado undermined by my imagination. I watch too many of the wrong movies.
After a mile in the dark, I’m relieved to see comforting light through the window of a house at the edge of the woods. Fear mastered, it’s time to head further north tomorrow as snow and Storm Bert approach.
Date of walk: Friday 15 November 2024.
Walk distance: 12 miles.
Total distance: 4,680 miles.
Nice low level walk – The Black Isle is often overlooked.
It felt like the start of years of walking in the countryside, leaving Inverness, the final city in Britain that I will pass through.
Fairy Glen looks rather special
We had a lovely few days in Cromarty a couple of years ago so this is familiar. We did see dolphins but they didn’t show up at Chanonry Point for us either, we had to go out on a boat trip.
I will return in the summer to finish the walk up to Cromarty, so a second chance to visit Chanonry Point. It may even be warm enough to linger next time. 🙂
Spent a wonderful time here when I did the North Coast 500. So many wonderful pictish stones
Ah yes, I’d forgotten you did that one. You have a fabulous picture of the Duncansby Stacks in your blog. They were all in shadow when I eventually got there, but that is for another day.