Silverbank Caravan Club Site, Banchory, Kincardineshire

Our move north yesterday morning was in rain, although not such rain we had endured as we moved to Edinburgh a few weeks ago; the actual packing and setting up were done in drizzle, so we should not complain.

We travelled north on the A90, the dual carriageway which in New Zealand would be called a motorway, pulling into the Stracathro Service Centre near Brechin which offered plenty of space and rather seedy facilities, however it served our needs; a comfort stop, a newspaper and a safe spot clear off the road to lunch and hang about.

I had taken some time to plan our trip, but failed to note that there is actually no direct turning from the A90 onto the A957 to the north west; we were obliged to exit and weave our way through the small streets of Stonehaven before finding our chosen route.

Clearing the little coastal town, we wended our way across a landscape of pine forests in varying states of growth and harvest, heather and bracken, climbing away from the coast, until we came over the top of the ridge and descended into the wide valley of the River Dee, turning west onto the A93 soon arriving at Banchory. We might have taken the alternative route to Banchory on the A93 all the way from Perth, climbing through the Cairngorn National Park, up past Braemar which we checked out today, but had chosen instead to take this easier route nearer the coast.

On arrival, and after setting up, I did a load of laundry and hung it out on my little rotary line to be rained on several times over, then set to planning our travel itinerary whilst here at Banchory. My venture into the camp information hut turned up very little and I was momentarily dismayed that we had a week to fill here, however once I surrounded myself with all my travel library, I realised we actually needed two to three weeks here instead.

We woke to glorious sunshine this morning; what a difference it makes! We set off at about 9 am heading westward along the A93, upstream of the River Dee, through Aboyne where we entered the National Park, on through Ballater, enjoying the scenery so much. We pulled into the Information Centre at the turnoff to Balmoral Castle, already cognoscente that we were just days late for any tour; the Queen and her family like to holiday without the public attention, and why not? Who would swap positions? I know I certainly would not!

The tartan kilted woman who opened the door to us a few minutes earlier than the official opening time, reminded us of this, but suggested we might like to visit Crathie Kirk, that across the road which the Queen frequents while in residence at Balmoral. There has been a structure here since the 9^th century, and a more modern church was built at the current site in 1804. Queen Victoria worshipped here from 1848 but decided that it should be upgraded, so in 1893 she laid the foundation church for this one which stands beckoning the disappointed tourist. But we gave it a miss, and only because we found there was a parking fee here in the car park beside the Information Centre, and given the Kirk was not on today’s agenda, we thought we would leave it off. Interestingly the car park fee is waived during the months that Balmoral is open to the public. I guess that is because the royal advisors reckon the tourist is ripped off enough paying the entry fee without stinging them for car parking as well. Anyway this is all academic, because we continued on to Braemar, a small town that cashes in on its proximity to Balmoral, and is no doubt busy during the ski season. There are a disproportionate number of hotels and other accommodation here, which all goes to confirm my comments. We walked from one end to the other, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine, the views beyond the town and patronised the local Co-op for late morning tea calories.

From here we left the A93 and headed on west along the minor road still following the River Dee.  The road is sealed all the way and offers wonderful views across the valley and up into the mountains. The Linn of Dee lies six miles upriver from Braemar and within the National Trust property of the 29,340 hectare Mar Lodge Estate, the largest property in the care of The National Trust of Scotland. This one has been in the Trust’s care since 1995 and lies at the heart of the Cairngorms National Park, rising from the River Dee to the heights of Ben Macdui. It encompasses all the classic features of a highland landscape: glens of crystal clear water, ancient Caledonian pine woodlands, heather moorlands and high mountains. The Trust’s conservation efforts include the regeneration of the native Caledonian pines woodland, the reduction of the red deer population and upland and lowland footpath management. There are fifteen high peaks here, including four of the five highest mountains in the United Kingdom.

We stopped less than a mile along the road, at an elevated view point and poured ourselves coffee from the thermos to accompany the pastries bought from the Co-op. No sooner had we settled to soak up the landscape, when a cyclist arrived to entertain us. He had ridden up from Perth yesterday, up the A93 while we had taken the more gentle coastal route. He planned to come on to Banchory today, but had decided a little side trip free of three quarters of his pannier luggage might be fun. This was all a prelude to a three week cycling trip around the Shetland Islands, which he would reach by ferry from Aberdeen. I suggested his passion for cycling might be considered obsessive. But whatever his nuttiness, he offered us a pleasant interlude and we wished each other safe journeys when he set off upriver. We soon overtook him and did not see him again. 

 We drove to the end of the road, a loop that took us back downriver to a position directly opposite our morning tea spot. We retraced our route a little, parked on the side of the road and set off on foot down a track in the hope of accessing the Lodge, which was today closed to the public. The photos of the property suggest it a very grand building and further research revealed it to have been a sporting lodge built for the use of the Duke and Duchess of Fife. This is the third version of the Lodge, the first which was built in the 18^th century was destroyed in a flood in 1829, the replacement destroyed by fire in 1895 and the current structure, the resurrection built between 1895 and 1898. Amazingly this last one was extensively damaged by a fire while being renovated in 1991, but was rebuilt. It is now hired out for functions, which must have been happening today.

Rather than arrive at the fascinating lodge we had seen from afar on the opposite side of the river, we found ourselves passing a cottage guarded by noisy dogs and a track that led nowhere. We did however spot a couple of voles and see a distant bird of prey, but alas no red squirrels.

We returned to the “Linn”, where the River Dee forces its way through a steep ravine, parked in the car park which is free to National Trust members and found a spot down on the rocks above the pools. We watched as a family group dived off a high ledge into the deep water, all a bit dodgy given the swiftness of the water here.  With all the activity about, it was not surprising we spotted no otters.

After lunch we set off up a gravel roadway, barricaded against vehicular access, but apparently a thirty two kilometre route through to Coylumbridge and Aviemore by Glen Dee and the Lairig Ghru, a forty two kilometre route through to Kingussie and Kincraig by Glen Geldie ad Glen Feshie and a thirty five kilometre route through to Blair Atholl, near Blair Castle, by Glen Tilt. We chose to do none of these rather challenging tracks, instead walking only twenty minutes one way before turning back. Before us the purple heather clad hills rose up and we passed through woods of Caledonian pines. It was all quite wonderful, but still no red squirrels.

Our route home was via a minor road, the B976 which hugs the southern banks of the River Dee from the Balmoral Castle gates all the way through to Glenorchy. It was a wonderful trip but would have been even better without the random cyclists and massive tractors.

Just a couple of miles short of Banchory, we crossed a stone built bridge over the Water of Fuegh, one of River Dee’s tributaries. Here are the Falls of Feugh, flowing with great force today, no doubt from the rain of the last few days. The brochures and interpretive signs suggest that salmon can be observed climbing the natural leap as they make their way upriver during the spawning season. We watched about a dozen attempting the leap, such a frustrating exercise today because the force and volume was too great. The fish are so brave and determined; they came back over and over, retreating exhausted before another attempt.  We hoped that the river level might abate in the next day or so, offering better conditions. But alas, soon after I rescued the last of the washing from the line, it started to drizzle. There is little hope for those salmon.