Last night I fell asleep with the lights on and a book on my chest. Next thing, it’s 2 am, and the street outside is seething with rowdy youngsters spilling out of the Underground Klub. They barely look old enough to drink. Sirens blare. I roll over and drift off, surfacing at 10 am. That’s what a 29-mile hike does for you.
I’ve planned a gentle couple of days after yesterday’s marathon. The London train stops at Stonehaven. There’s one small problem. The last three carriages are too long for the platform. I’m sitting in the last carriage. Dashing down the narrow aisle, apologising as my backpack knocks several people in their seats, I leap off before the doors close. That’s woken me up.
Stonehaven does not have the prettiest waterfront, with a pebble beach and drab beige housing. Climbing up the road out of town, a local couple explain that the poles below were for hanging out salmon nets. I thought they were a little tall for the washing lines often seen in coastal villages.
The 13th-century Cowie Chapel warrants an early diversion. There’s plenty of time for meandering today.
The A92 dual carriageway is not the most interesting of walks, but it’s easy enough on the short-cropped verge.
Finally, I escape down a country lane to Easter Muchalls, passing beneath a railway bridge. I’m surprised to find a charming cluster of cottages next to a small pond. Peacocks wander everywhere.
A young man chases two peacocks down a drive. He works on the railway track, staying here temporarily, unable to sleep last night due to the peacocks rattling across his roof.
“I thought they only lived in Africa.”
I’m not sure what to say to that.
The path loops round pretty Doonie Point, where I enjoy a late lunch on a shapely wooden bench. An elderly couple walk past and confirm it’s possible to walk along the coastline from Stonehaven, pushing through bracken and climbing fences. They’ve lived here for 16 years and still walk to Newtonhill, regardless of the weather, carrying two rucksacks to pick up supplies from Tesco.
There’s a path north along the clifftop. Ignoring a warning sign, I walk down into Grim Haven, which has fine views, before being forced to retrace my steps and head inland to Muchalls village.
Leaving the village, I’m told an old path runs across the valley under the railway bridge.
It’s not been used for a long time. Wooden steps are obscured by ferns and nettles rising to my chest, so I change into my hiking trousers, having learnt a painful lesson yesterday. I manage to get to the bottom of the valley without falling, but there’s no path visible on the other side of the burn. I force a path diagonally up to a field and follow the perimeter to the sea.
Walking the rough field margins, climbing over fences, I notice a group of hikers zooming along at the top of the field so cut up to discover a perfect path.
Overlooking the small harbour at Newtonhill, a metal sculpture by Jim Malcolm celebrates the daring rescue by local villagers of the crew of the stricken Isabella in a gale in 1888.
After climbing the hill out of Newtonhill Bay, I take quiet roads down to the tiny harbour at Portlethen, followed by a long walk up the hill to the train station for an early finish and return to Aberdeen.
Date of walk: Sunday 23 June 2024.
Walk distance: 13 miles.
Total distance: 4,350 miles.
Next day
A beautiful morning finds me pushing my way once more through head-high ferns and stinging nettles across the Burn of Findon to the Survitec depot, with its collection of survival vessels. I doubt anyone has used this “path” for years.
I follow the rather dull cycle route along minor roads into Cove Bay to avoid a working quarry.
Things improve on leaving the village, with a pretty clifftop walk, passing several fishermen perched on rocks.
The gorgeous sandstone cliffs are dotted with caves, coves and sea stacks.
Arriving at the newly completed Aberdeen South Harbour, I make the mistake of trying to enter the harbour through a turnstile before a security guard politely points out it is a restricted area and directs me to the correct perimeter road round to windy Girdle Ness Lighthouse.
Greyhope Bay Centre sits high above the harbour, with commanding views. The coffee shop provides free binoculars for dolphin spotting. After scanning the water for a few minutes, I pick up my latest book, Wilding by Isabella Tree. What is it with nature writers? Is she a friend of Guy Shrubsole? Someone shouts and I grab my binoculars. A bottlenose dolphin breaks the surface, followed by others.
I need to get closer so finish my coffee and walk down the hill to the edge of the harbour. Sitting on the grass, I start to film the smooth surface. Incredibly, a dolphin leaps into the air, twists and dives back into the water. What a joyous sight! I’ll happily trade all those rainy, windswept days and miles of road walking for unforgettable moments like these. I film until my battery is too low.
Still high on the dolphin watching, there’s a spring in my step and a smile on my face as I walk through the docks into the city.
The shorter walk gives me time to explore Nuart Aberdeen, the “award-winning and internationally renowned street art festival” that began in 2017. The organisers have a wonderful digital map, showing the location of 60 paintings, although I don’t have time to find them all.
There are several huge murals. The one by Zacharevic is my favourite, making clever use of the architectural design.
Date of walk: Monday 24 June 2024.
Walk distance: 13 miles.
Total distance: 4,363 miles.
Wonderful views of the dolphins, so pleased for you. Weather looks amazingly good too. Last time I was in that area it rained constantly and was cold even in the summer!
I’ve been so lucky with my last three trips to Scotland, although I did get a day of mist when I could not see a thing. 🙂
Wow…just wow Tony
“I thought they only lived in Africa.”
He thought wrongly, then; peafowl are from southern India and Sri Lanka. Although, I guess it’s possible they might be heard in Africa. In fact, I’m not convinced they can’t be heard on Mars, the noisy blighters!