TRIP 16 5 GO WILD IN KINCRAIG
DAY1 Monday 17th May 2021
Our friends Susan and Robin had very graciously invited us, along with our mutual friend Maureen, to join them at the cottage of their friends they were staying in for a week. The house is in the little village of Kincraig, between Kingussie and Aviemore. Not too far from home, but a welcome break away with other people after the Covid times.
Susan and Robin had gone down earlier in the day and we picked up Maureen after lunch and headed down the road. Maureen was a very good girl in the car. Here we are at the house. The house is called Aspen, which is an archetypal tree of this part of the Highlands. It is quite often called Mother in Law's Tongue in reference to the leaves which are almost never still. They shake in the merest zephyr of wind. The tree is also called the quaking or trembling poplar - it is a member of the poplar family. I assume the house doesn't tremble.
It was a little early to start drinking or, indeed, to jump into the hot tub, so we rather sensibly went for a walk. Once out of the driveway to the house, you are into birch woodland, and paths lead you round by Loch Insh and the Spey to the old part of Kincraig.
Kincraig was not always called that. It was known as Boat of Insh, reflecting the fact that there used to be a ferry here to get you from one side of the Spey to the other. There was also a railway station here, which was similarly called Boat of Insh. The railway company renamed the station as Kincraig in 1871, when the single track wooden bridge replaced the ferry across the Spey. Kincraig it has remained ever since. The name derives from the Gaelic - Ceann Creige - the end of the crag. The railway station closed in 1965.
The paths actually take you over the railway line and then through more open areas that once were cultivated and there are a number of clearance cairns, remains of field systems and the remnants of one or two 19th Century buildings. You also get some rather nice views across Loch Insh and of the Spey as it flows out of the Loch and eventually becomes narrower and more constrained by the surrounding landform.
It might be well into May, but the weather has not been made aware of the fact. There is still plenty of snow on the hills and plenty of rain falling from the skies.
Our destination was the Old Post Office. This had actually served the village continuously as a Post Office for 120 years, until it closed in 2016. It is now a rather fine little café serving quite splendid cakes, as well as having a very interesting looking lunch menu. I had a very moist and citrusy lemon, lime and orange cake, as did Sharon and Susan. Maureen and Robin were all together more greedily seduced by a huge slice of rhubarb, raspberry and custard cake. All very good but unfortunately I forgot to take any photos! Time to go back through the drizzle to the house and get into the hot tub with some bubbles.
I had not originally thought to make a blog of this trip, so no photos of us in the hot tub, today. Nor are there any close up photos of our lovely dinner, prepared by Susan and Robin. We had a very nice smoked mackerel pate, oatcakes and salad to start. A big serving of fish pie was next, with a salad and it was all followed by some more citrus delights in the form of a key lime cheesecake. We certainly managed our 5 a day that day.
DAY2 Tuesday 18th May
Today was to be a day of sporting endeavour. Most of us breakfasted on scrambled eggs, raw tomatoes and crispy bacon. The exception was Robin, who bizarrely and to much ridicule, had flubbery bacon and cooked tomatoes with his eggs. He even had toast under his eggs! Once we were over the shock of this, we set off for Carrbridge for 9 holes of golf. The weather was not too promising and it was a little damp when we got going. Maureen was observing and the rest of us were playing. The course was busy, but we were not under pressure to play quickly. The weather steadily improved as the round progressed and we ended up playing in short sleeves, which was very pleasant indeed.
Here are the ladies in front of the clubhouse.
The only time Maureen swung a club was to to ring the bell halfway along the first, to let the following group know that they were safe to play. Very stylishly done.
Sharon and Susan on the tee at the 4th. Blue sky was appearing and some of the outer layers had been shed.
Susan and Maureen by the 7th tee. It was nice and warm by then.
At the end of a most enjoyable meander round the course, we were back at the clubhouse and ready to go for a bite to eat.
Next stop, The Barn at Rothiemurchus for some more food. The Barn is a relatively new place to eat near Aviemore and none of us had been there, There was a bit of an ulterior motive in the choice, given that there is a deli and a gift shop there as well. Not to worry, the food was very good and we had a table away from the bulk of people. Robin and I both had the blue cheese burger and salad, which was very tasty indeed and just what was needed after a hard morning on the golf course. Sharon and Susan had the sweet potato, coconut and chilli soup and Maureen had Cullen Skink. Everybody professed themselves happy as they set off to explore the adjoining shops. I admit to being quite happy with getting out of the shops without any serious assault on the credit card. I was also quite glad that I resisted any urge to buy the Haggis spice chocolate! Yes, an entirely resistible melange of chocolate with haggis spices and pinhead oatmeal. Why would you?
By now it was tipping it down - back to the house at Kincraig it was.
It didn't take too long to decide that what we really needed was to have something else to eat before another session in the hot tub. It was our turn to do the food. We had made a broad bean and avocado dip and a white bean and smoky pepper dip as a starter, along with some veggie crudites and bread sticks..
Here we are (except Sharon), steaming in the tub.
Once we were well poached, Sharon and I got out to get dinner ready, whilst the others just got redder and hotter. Dinner was a Greek style bake of chicken, peppers, olives, artichokes and onions along with homemade flatbreads and salad. Pudding was raspberries, ricotta and lemon zest. Here I am making the flatbreads, despite not having the necessary tools on hand to cut the dough. I soldiered on regardless.
My glamorous assistant was ready to spread the garlic and herb olive oil on the bread.
Here she is about to serve up. Maureen could hardly wait.
Once replete, it was time for a relaxing drink before bedtime. There was a bit of chat, but I have forgotten what it was about, except for the bits about dogs and their owners. I don't recall insulting anyone.
DAY3 Wednesday 19th May
Another damp start to the day and the last one in Kincraig for Maureen, Sharon and I. After a full breakfast of fruit and croissants - how continental were we? - we packed up our stuff and loaded the car. However, we were not about to go home, not yet. It was but a short trip across the 1871 wooden bridge to get to the nearby Frank Bruce sculpture trail. This turned out to be a bit thought provoking - interesting, fascinating and off-putting all at once.
Frank Bruce was not your average artist. He was actually one of 9 children and he left school at 13, misunderstood because of his dyslexia. Nothing would suggest he would become a sculptor, until he was given an encyclopedia and was thrilled to see that the ancient Greeks could express themselves in three dimensions, as well as in words. He then taught himself to read with comic books. He also shied away from the art world. He never sold his works or sought to gain from them, preferring, instead, to have donations which allowed him to continue with his craft.
He moved to Aviemore with his family and the sculptures, which had originally been erected near Banff where he previously lived. The sculptures were moved down, in time, to the site at Kincraig through local action and the help of the Forestry Commission. This was quite apt in that some of the pieces were made from ancient pine trees, at least one of which, Frank had salvaged after it had been felled to accommodate the realigned A9.
It is fair to say this was not your average walk in the woods.
The first sculpture on the trail is The Archetype and is possibly the most striking of those pieces still standing. Some of the others have fallen or have been lowered for safety reasons. Frank intended that they should decay back into the earth from whence they had originated.
It would appear that what Bruce was getting at here was The Archetype as a concept, particularly in Jungian psychology, rather than the more prosaic assumption that we normally make, of the archetype as the prototype of a thing that we can all recognise. We would all recognise that Hitler was an archetypal power mad egomaniac. However, Jung thought that we all share unconscious thoughts, ideas and images that shaped our behaviour. What Bruce was getting at with this work was that if someone did not have these common ideas, if we did not have an archetype, then we made up our own roles and rules, without any constraint on our behaviour and, so monsters like Hitler could arise.
If I was to do a bit of research to trace my interpretation of the meaning behind each of the sculptures in the same way as for The Archetype, I would be here forever and, I suspect, nobody would be reading any more. So, I will just make a few comments on only some of the pieces, starting with The Thinker. Apparently this was inspired by Rodin's Thinker, which was, in turn, inspired by the works of Michelangelo. Here it was placed beside a pool and, once upon a time, you could see the reflection of the the thinker reflecting. Nowadays, it has fallen in the water! Perhaps he fell asleep thinking so hard.
The next two figures represent Bruce's love of Burn's poem, A Man's a Man for a' That. The knight on the left seems ineffably superior, while the working man on the right seems more detailed, more richly characterised - as if that is where the artist's sympathy lies. The skulls on each of their heads represent the great leveller of mortality.
We were a bit dismissive of this little stone sculpture, simply called the Sailor. It would seem we were wrong to be so quick to think so little of it. It looks like a sailor shouting, partially hewn from the larger stone block. In fact, it is a much more personal thing for the artist. His brother was a sailor who died in the Second World War. He is imagining his brother, trapped in a fast sinking battleship, with no hope of escape from the icy waters surrounding him.
This piece, called Two Patriots is one of the more striking works. Bruce seems to have been affected by the war and the needless slaughter accompanying all wars. The point he was making was that it took a patriot to fight for a country. If you have another patriot, you can have a war. Hitler needed patriots as did Churchill.
This is the other side and the other patriot. He was not saying that patriotism is wrong, only that if Hitler had not had patriots, he would not have been able to go to war by himself.
Bruce was also interested in the developing world and how we relate to it. His ensemble sculpture called the Third World is his take on things. It has fallen down now, but it included three blinkered developed world men (and they are men) looking away from a fourth figure. This fourth figure represents the third world and it is a woman holding a starving baby. The developed world, he thought, was deliberately blind to the suffering and condition of the third world.
Frank Bruce died in 2009 in Inverness. In many ways he seems to have written his own epitaph in one of the other stone sculptures. It simply says I was privileged to be. The more I think about it, it was we who were privileged to see all of this before it disappears.
After that bit of education and pondering, it was time for a more usual type of walk in the woods. We headed off in the opposite direction along the river Feshie walk. This was much more like the walks we are all used to. Feshie derives from Gaelic for boggy and also pasture land. The river is one of the flashiest in Scotland and frequently floods the surrounding farmland. By flashy, I mean it is prone to huge variations in flow and spate. You can see this tendency by the enormous banks of boulders and erosion along the length of the river.
The walk takes you up to Feshie Bridge, which dates from the late 18th Century. The construction of the bridge is a little unusual. It includes a main arch which crosses the flow of the river. It also includes a flood archway which accommodates floodwaters which are not rare on this river. The bridge is notable for having survived major flooding in 1829.
You can see the flood arch in the background of this photo - if you can drag your eyes away from the stunning foreground view.
The walk away from the bridge gave us some nice views over to the hills.
There were also views through the trees to the snow still clinging to the hills.
We had a wander round the retail bits of the site, before it was time for the two of us and Maureen to head for home and leave Susan and Robin to enjoy some peace, quiet and tranquility. We all had had a really good time, some fine food and drink and great fun. Thanks must go to Susan and Robin for inviting us and to Lesley and Roy for giving us all the chance to enjoy their house.
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