Day 3 – Round the bend
I would like to be more generous but, honestly, Fraserburgh is the arsehole of Scotland. I was staying at the Cheers Bar and Tavern slap bang in the centre of town.
At a quick glance you’d miss the entrance but beyond the narrow passageway is a vast area of bars and entertainment areas. How much they are used is anyone’s guess but Lizzie, probably in her 60s but could have been younger, booked me in and locked Lucy in a shed at the back of the huge area. My room was up a rickety staircase, accessed through a door with a fierce spring, with several trip hazards on the way but the room itself, overlooking the main street, was fine with a bathroom across the landing. The shower was adequate, a tad weak but it got the grime off and allowed me to rinse the clothes before hanging them in the window where they dried nicely overnight particularly as the early morning sun shone straight in.
I asked about food, but Cheers don’t cook in the evening and about all that was on offer was takeaways. Fraserburgh has a population of about 13,000 and, as far as I could see, there was only one restaurant, in the Saltoun Inn where you could sit down and eat. By the time I realised that that was an option I’d already ordered a Chinese takeaway accompanied by a bottle of Hardy red from the Iceland store across the road that felt as though it would dissolve what’s left of my teeth.
I ate and drank in my room whilst writing the blog and trying to get on-line which proved impossible with the Cheers Wi-Fi. During the day I take photos on my phone and save them to One drive so that I can then select them on the Asus lap-top that I use to write the blog. Without a wi-fi connection this is impossible so I wrote the words and saved the file to my computer and resigned myself to being unable to publish until I could find a reliable wi-fi. I went downstairs to the bar and complained, but the barmaid wasn’t interested, so I had a pint of Tennents and went back upstairs to bed. I suddenly had a thought that there might be other open wi-fi systems in the area and sure enough Boots, directly opposite my room on the other side of the street, was showing a very weak signal. I logged on and, praise be, it worked. I was able to add pictures and publish the blog before I turned in. Hurrah for Boots.
Fraserburgh has the unenviable reputation as the Scottish town with the greatest heroin problem. 20% of young men are addicts and heroin is cheap: it costs about £80 a week which is less than the cost of smoking 20 cigarettes a day, and is readily available. Many of these work on the fishing boats, a hard life, fiercely cold and back-breaking, but, for which, they earn good money. Whilst working they keep their habit in check with dihydrocodeine but as soon as they return, they’re back on the smack. The bar at Cheers was full of noisy young men who, when the pub closed, spilled out into the street and kept me awake arguing and shouting until 0130 when I finally got a chance of sleep. As you can tell I’m not a fan of Fraserburgh!
Breakfast was included in the room price and was served by Polish Anna. A large carafe of orange juice was most welcome, and the fry-up was good, a marked improvement on yesterday.
I was packed up and ready to leave at about 0900. The sun was shining brightly and the forecast was for dry weather. I still had about 4 miles of easterly way to make and turned the corner at Inverallochy and headed south. I was following the coast but out of sight of the sea as there are no roads along the shoreline. The ground was flat with a lot of large fields of harvested cereals. Judging by the number of straw bales the harvest has been good and there were tractors busy ploughing for the next crop.
I crossed the river Ugie and made my way into Peterhead, the largest fishing port on the east coast with a substantial fish market and some mega trawlers in harbour.
I cycled around the harbour and bay but didn’t venture into the centre of town; but, and maybe the weather helped, it had an altogether more optimistic feel than Fraserburgh. Beyond Peterhead I was able to stay in sight of the sea, albeit 100 or so feet asl. More harvested fields and herds of prime cattle, mainly continental crosses, which were looking very well. I imagine farmers in the north east of Scotland will have a bumper year.
Beyond Cruden Bay I had to join the A975, not too busy as it crossed the River Ythan
I confess I’ve never heard of the Ythan and wondered why it doesn’t feature in the world of salmon fishing. I was soon to find out. I passed through the town of Newburgh and, as I was in no hurry turned off my route and made for Newburgh beach. There is a large car park, surprisingly full, and a lot of people wandering around. The local authority has installed a marvellous boardwalk which I was able to cycle along for the 300 yards to the beach. The opposite shore was a mass of seabirds, but the estuary was heaving with grey seals – you can just about see some of them in this picture. Any salmon that makes it into the estuary must pretty quickly become seal food,
To keep off the A90 I had to pass Trump International Golf Links
The Donald has invested about £50 million quid buying 1400 acres of land at Balmedie, just north of Aberdeen and building not one, but two brand new Golf Links with a hotel and accompanying razzamatazz. He is desperate for the R&A to hold the Open there and, indeed, it would make an excellent venue with good transport links and plenty of space. Whether it will happen remains to be seen. He has, since 2014 also owned Turnberry on the West Coast which has been a venue for the Open in the past.
I passed under the A90 in Balmedie village and made my way west to the B995 which took me across the river Don
which has retained its reputation as a salmon fishery. Now in the ‘burbs of Aberdeen I spent a lot of time cycling on pavements and in cycle lanes which were of limited use because of stopping buses and cars parked in them but I eventually reached the centre to find my proposed route was blocked by roadworks in Union Street. I diverted and eventually got back on course to cross the River Dee (one of the greatest salmon rivers that, much further west, flows through the Balmoral estate) by the George VI bridge which has a nice wide cycleway.
I turned right and followed the river for a mile before climbing steeply out of the valley and across country, at times on dirt track, before reaching my destination the Premier Inn at Portlethen shortly before 4pm.
