April trails.

Loch Watten














Helmsdale Train station.














The beautiful secret beach at Dunbeath.














View south from the beach towards Dunbeath castle on the edge of the cliffs.













The Grey Cairns of Camster (not to be confused with the psychedelic tie dyed Cairns of Bumster) 3500 year old Neolithic structures in the wilds of Caithness, getting the thumbs up of approval from the munchkins.










Duncansby head, right on the far north east corner of Scotland, home to thousands of sea birds, note the spiky sea stacks in the middle distance.












The curve of Sinclair's bay looking towards Ackergill Tower.












Some views from recent tours around the wild, mysterious and beautiful Caithness, the secretly spectacular corner of Scotland.

Fish and Chips

La Mirage is a special restaurant.
We recommend you get the battered Haddock, and you don't have to have tea or coffee with your fish and chips, they have a wine list and a selection of ales, and the decor is as fabulous as their most famous patron, the late Dame Barbara Cartland.










This scantily clad lamp stand, suitably dressed for a very warm and sunny april sunday, would look great in our country cottage.













This fella makes sure nobody leaves without paying, and guards the lamp stand from wandering hands.













Note the double portion of fish and huge platter of chips.














Superb battered haddock, chips, mushy peas and a side salad, washed down with Northern Light, a lovely pale ale from Orkney Brewery. The plate is massive, look how it dwarfs the pint pot.













This lady is employed to lure passing trade, although we were lured by giant battered haddock.













After the meal we had no room in our tummies for tea, coffee or snacks.














La Mirage is the greatest fish and chip shop with the tastiest fish, the lightest, crunchiest golden batter, the chunkiest chips and the hugest portions in the known universe and beyond!

in the vicinity

The local cliffs, home to hundreds of seabirds.















Sunset from the cottage.














Friendly neighbour.














Primrose.













Highland bat devil.













The lighthouse.













Some views from the immediate vicinity of our home.

the cottage

Spring eventually arrived in the garden, better late than never.














The house from the Harbour side of Swiney Hill.














The Mothership, the mountains and the onshore oil rig in the foreground.












Touching down a few hoops with the homies in the yard, as they might (never) say across the pond.













Tulip from the garden.

















Someone left the gate open, run for it.













Dry ice.















The young lady gets to work on the land.


















The young man gets busy with his barrow.


















The view from the bedroom, with sky whale.

















We have been settling in at our new home, unpacking boxes and exploring the environment. The weather has gone from spring, to winter, then to summer, all in a week. The sea fogs obliterate the vistas but on a clear day you can see right across the Moray Firth to the Grampian mountains over 50 miles away. We love the place.

The move.

Territorial markings.




















Looking for adventure.
















The Hallway.

















A very old chesterfield sofa, uncomfortable, too low but full of memories, and probably lots of sticky fluffy things down the back.















Unloading the few things we own was a quick and easy job.



















The Lorry arrives.














We moved into the new house at last, all our stuff was stored offshore on Orkney, and when it came we realised that we hardly have anything and have a lot of space to fill, and even more space to explore.

the sound of breaking glass

Students work and the lovely Bottle of Whaligoe mineral water made by James Maskrey.
















Some of the students work.


















Squeeezing and bending.


















The heating rods.


















Twisting and turning.


















Jim Maskrey picking up the molten glass.



















One of the fiery furnaces full of molten glass.
















Images from a week long glass making masterclass at North Lands, for students from Sunderland University, given by James Maskrey the "Glass Master" as Aran called him. It was hot! and shiny, and wonderful to witness.