As this was Morag's first visit to Doune she of course wanted to explore a bit, so after working hard one morning we set off to walk over to Dun Head. The idea had been to get views of the bay from a different angle. However, we didn't get to the top of the headland but ended up walking towards the coast at the back of it. A small beach drew our attention so we clambered through heather and bracken going as far as possible "as the crow flies" towards it. I had known for years that there was an old corn kiln in that area of rocky outcops but have never ever come upon it in all the years I have visited Doune. 
However, this time walking through a gap between two high rocks there it was, a round "basin"about 8 feet in diameter built in a shallow wall of stones. It was a bit overgrown with the ubiquitous and iniquitous bracken but could be clearly seen. You may have to use your imagination in the photo! I'm not really sure how the grain drying process was done here, though I have read a little about other kilns.
View from the old house towards Dun Head where the flatter ground was used for cultivation.
The tree on the headland marks the spot where part of the vitrified fort can be seen.
Back over at our own beach the tide was sufficiently out for Ewan in his wetsuit, and the other kids who were staying in a Stone Lodge, to go paddling over sand rather than the pebbles at higher tide, and attempt a dip in the cold water of the Strait between us and the southern end of the Isle of Skye.
It was very cold and the kids did well to get up to their waists, but then I remember myself at that age plunging straight up to my neck in the Firth of Forth at Longniddry Beach near Edinburgh, where it was equally cold!
Another day Morag and I took a short walk over to the White House area where I just had to show her one very unusual place - The Ark!
This had been home to Mary's son Toby, his wife and baby for a time, before they began the restoration and expansion of another ruin a bit further round the coast from Doune. The folklore of the ruined house is that no-one has ever lived there, the people who were building it being cleared from the land and sent to Canada before it was finished. Strangely, history seems to be repeating itself as at the moment Toby, Cath and their three of a family have moved to Inverie where it is easier for a programme to help their autistic youngest son to be implemented. (Sadly the rebuilt house, which is beautiful, full of arched wooden beams and lots of big windows, is falling into disrepair already. The turf roof, that makes it look like a Hobbit House from the sea, is sliding off and damp and rain are getting in. Cath and Toby hope eventually to move back, but I think it will be some time before they can do that.) Anyway - the Ark was their temporary home on the beach at Airor, looking a bit "like a gypsy caravan... built on top of... a watertight boatlike raft on wheels" (says Mary in her book). It can be towed by sea when conditions are calm, and was brought back to Doune some years ago where it became accommodation for staff - Anne Marie stayed there for a good while. Sadly The Ark lies empty just now but it was possible to have a look inside. I think that fixed up just a bit it would also make excellent accommodation for certain guests. The small space inside has been very imaginatively fitted out, utilising every bit of space. 
An old woodburning stove near the front door warms the place, and is suitable for cooking on, in addition to the Baby Belling . The washbasin is also near the front and at the back is a lounging and sleeping area, 
separated from the kitchen area by a table and benches. All the fittings like shelves and cupboards are made of driftwood in a very artistic manner. We love it!
Then we came down on to the beach in front of the White House to watch the hens foraging along the high tide line amongst the seaweed, (Their night enclosure was overrun with ragwort and I later spent an enjoyable morning helping Jane to pull it up and transport it to the bonfire site. All the while a few of the hens were pecking round our feet, clucking gently to themselves, waiting for the worms that would be lurking in the exposed earth as each clump was removed!) and
then explored the various paths that link one house to another before returning to the bunkhouse where the usual jigsaw was in process. One had already been finished so this is the second one!
Not quite time for dinner there was also time for a game of Jenga. I seem to remember I was the one to bring the pile tumbling down from 29 layers!
So, you needn't go far from the Lodges to find interesting things to see and do. There is also a sheltered vegetable garden providing much of the supplies for the kitchen. Jane said that they sometimes had Wwoofers staying in the Ark and helping out in the garden. I first heard of Wwoofers when my cousin Moira up in Sutherland was alive and running her croft with the help of Wwoofers. She had a very varied mix of people, coming from overseas mainly, to spend some time working in return for food and accommodation. The organisation is World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms - hence Wwoof and Wwoofers! Oops! I seem to have got that wrong! Should be Willing Workers On Organic Farms!!! Seems like an excellent scheme for travellers who want to take the opportunity to see the world in a different light!
However, this time walking through a gap between two high rocks there it was, a round "basin"about 8 feet in diameter built in a shallow wall of stones. It was a bit overgrown with the ubiquitous and iniquitous bracken but could be clearly seen. You may have to use your imagination in the photo! I'm not really sure how the grain drying process was done here, though I have read a little about other kilns.old turf walls overgrown with bell heather
From there we carried on to the little beach then up past the sheep fank (sheep pens) onto the hill to see some of the remains of the old pre-1850s settlement. We followed old heather-covered turf walls, and clambered through waist high bracken, following for the most part tracks forged by deer who are much more capable than us of breaking through the thick growth, to find several ruins, including the one I always visit. It is less ruined than most of the others and is accessed by a small "bridge" - at least it might have been one once, when the community would have had to keep the drainage in check. Here I always feel like a ghost from the future, and feel that if ever there was a novel in me, this would be it! A 21st century ghost blundering through the 18th century village, perhaps around the end of the century, giving the native population an inkling into what was to come, and perhaps trying to change history.
From there we carried on to the little beach then up past the sheep fank (sheep pens) onto the hill to see some of the remains of the old pre-1850s settlement. We followed old heather-covered turf walls, and clambered through waist high bracken, following for the most part tracks forged by deer who are much more capable than us of breaking through the thick growth, to find several ruins, including the one I always visit. It is less ruined than most of the others and is accessed by a small "bridge" - at least it might have been one once, when the community would have had to keep the drainage in check. Here I always feel like a ghost from the future, and feel that if ever there was a novel in me, this would be it! A 21st century ghost blundering through the 18th century village, perhaps around the end of the century, giving the native population an inkling into what was to come, and perhaps trying to change history.
View from the old house towards Dun Head where the flatter ground was used for cultivation.The tree on the headland marks the spot where part of the vitrified fort can be seen.
We started uphill again, following more turf walls, and down through more bracken to the burn (small river) in the valley splashing over rocky steps towards the sea, passing the bunkhouse and reaching the sea at 'our' beach. It was quite easy to jump the burn and clamber up the other side to two more ruins, and then again through more bracken heading down hill. 
We were still a way higher than the seashore and as today's Doune came into sight we realised where we'd end up. Continuing to descend the hillside once more we emerged from the bracken deer tracks close to Jamie's house, from where it was an easy stroll back down to the stone lodges! We probably walked only a couple of miles, but it felt like more because of the hard slog through the bracken.
We were still a way higher than the seashore and as today's Doune came into sight we realised where we'd end up. Continuing to descend the hillside once more we emerged from the bracken deer tracks close to Jamie's house, from where it was an easy stroll back down to the stone lodges! We probably walked only a couple of miles, but it felt like more because of the hard slog through the bracken. Back over at our own beach the tide was sufficiently out for Ewan in his wetsuit, and the other kids who were staying in a Stone Lodge, to go paddling over sand rather than the pebbles at higher tide, and attempt a dip in the cold water of the Strait between us and the southern end of the Isle of Skye.
It was very cold and the kids did well to get up to their waists, but then I remember myself at that age plunging straight up to my neck in the Firth of Forth at Longniddry Beach near Edinburgh, where it was equally cold! Another day Morag and I took a short walk over to the White House area where I just had to show her one very unusual place - The Ark!
This had been home to Mary's son Toby, his wife and baby for a time, before they began the restoration and expansion of another ruin a bit further round the coast from Doune. The folklore of the ruined house is that no-one has ever lived there, the people who were building it being cleared from the land and sent to Canada before it was finished. Strangely, history seems to be repeating itself as at the moment Toby, Cath and their three of a family have moved to Inverie where it is easier for a programme to help their autistic youngest son to be implemented. (Sadly the rebuilt house, which is beautiful, full of arched wooden beams and lots of big windows, is falling into disrepair already. The turf roof, that makes it look like a Hobbit House from the sea, is sliding off and damp and rain are getting in. Cath and Toby hope eventually to move back, but I think it will be some time before they can do that.) Anyway - the Ark was their temporary home on the beach at Airor, looking a bit "like a gypsy caravan... built on top of... a watertight boatlike raft on wheels" (says Mary in her book). It can be towed by sea when conditions are calm, and was brought back to Doune some years ago where it became accommodation for staff - Anne Marie stayed there for a good while. Sadly The Ark lies empty just now but it was possible to have a look inside. I think that fixed up just a bit it would also make excellent accommodation for certain guests. The small space inside has been very imaginatively fitted out, utilising every bit of space. 
An old woodburning stove near the front door warms the place, and is suitable for cooking on, in addition to the Baby Belling . The washbasin is also near the front and at the back is a lounging and sleeping area, 
separated from the kitchen area by a table and benches. All the fittings like shelves and cupboards are made of driftwood in a very artistic manner. We love it!
Then we came down on to the beach in front of the White House to watch the hens foraging along the high tide line amongst the seaweed, (Their night enclosure was overrun with ragwort and I later spent an enjoyable morning helping Jane to pull it up and transport it to the bonfire site. All the while a few of the hens were pecking round our feet, clucking gently to themselves, waiting for the worms that would be lurking in the exposed earth as each clump was removed!) and
then explored the various paths that link one house to another before returning to the bunkhouse where the usual jigsaw was in process. One had already been finished so this is the second one!
the path from Liz's to the White House
Not quite time for dinner there was also time for a game of Jenga. I seem to remember I was the one to bring the pile tumbling down from 29 layers!So, you needn't go far from the Lodges to find interesting things to see and do. There is also a sheltered vegetable garden providing much of the supplies for the kitchen. Jane said that they sometimes had Wwoofers staying in the Ark and helping out in the garden. I first heard of Wwoofers when my cousin Moira up in Sutherland was alive and running her croft with the help of Wwoofers. She had a very varied mix of people, coming from overseas mainly, to spend some time working in return for food and accommodation. The organisation is World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms - hence Wwoof and Wwoofers! Oops! I seem to have got that wrong! Should be Willing Workers On Organic Farms!!! Seems like an excellent scheme for travellers who want to take the opportunity to see the world in a different light!
As you can see I have now discovered how to make links to websites! What fun I could have had if I'd known how to do this when I was blogging NZ! Now I just hope they work!!!
Anyway, more next time - a bigger expedition done three ways!
Talk again soon!
1 comment:
Oh I just love playing JENGA with my Grandsons...
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