Whelp, we called an audible and decided to continue to try and outrun the storm, which has a name now...Storm Babet.
We packed the car in stinging, wet winds and left Braemar this morning.
Still taking the scenic route (as if you can avoid it here), we wound through the Cairngorms and witnessed the beautiful landscape through raindrop speckled windows.
We drove south to go north...through Pitlochry, pausing at half-past-pint for a bowl of soup in Blair Atholl, destination: Inverness.
On the way, a must-see was the Old Pack Horse Bridge over River Dulnain in Carrbridge, built in 1717, which just happened to be located adjacent to the currently used bridge so, you know, not a massive undertaking of a hike in the rain.
There was a small path and a little look-out area and on one else around...perfection!
We snapped some photos and carried on to our newly booked Airbnb in Inverness, situated on the River Ness with a picture perfect view of the Inverness Castle...currently under construction and looking so ridiculously new it should almost have a Bloomingdales logo plastered across it...
Dunnottar it is not.
The current rendition is dated to 1836, but a succession of castles have stood in its place since 1057. Still, it’s a castle out the kitchen window...amazing!
Shortly, we’ll be off to dinner at The Mustard Seed, located in an old church a few blocks away.
A couple of catch-up overviews:
David wanted everyone to know that his Scottish accent is improving, likely due to the Scott-osmosis of his new sweater and hat.
I had the slightest curb brush today while parking in the bustling Inverness city-center and, apparently, that garnered a booming “WHOA-HO!!” from the backseat, which gives me the unsought curb-check lead...5-4.
Also...no pink shorts in the rain, no Tucci, and two Joe Pepitone sightings that may or may not be legitimate.
Here’s whispering “Salonpas” to all those near and far.
Tomorrow, Evanston.
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