The next stop on our Scottish adventure is Stonehaven. It lies in Aberdeenshire along the northeast coast. The town was essentially an old fishing village along the North Sea, but it has grown to have a population of approximately 12,000.
Once again we take ScotRail to our destination, this time changing trains in Aberdeen. The train isn't luxurious, but it is clean, reasonably comfortable and a decent price. When we arrive at the Victorian Stonehaven station we ask the ticket attendant for suggestions on how to reach Twenty-four Shorehead, the B&B we have booked for the night. He describes a "short walk" all downhill to the marina which the B&B faces. There's also a comment about calling a taxi if we want, with numbers listed in front of the station. The four of us pull our wheeled bags outside and stand around debating our approach for 10 minutes. While Fergus is off looking at the signs regarding taxi's the three us us decide what the heck - we'll just walk it. After all, it is all a "short walk" and all downhill.
Fergus catches up. We are quite the sight - four tourists walking single file two with backpacks and all dragging our bags behind us. At one point we stop to rest and discuss directions when a local woman comes out of her charming stone home. She offers to help and tells us to take the road that T's in front of her home, follow it as it curves down to the harbor then take a right. Sounds simple enough, and it is, but the walk is not something none of us would call "short". It turns out to be somewhere between 1 1/2 and 2 miles when we finally arrive at Twenty-four Shorehead, the building furthest along the harbor around 2 pm.
Once again we take ScotRail to our destination, this time changing trains in Aberdeen. The train isn't luxurious, but it is clean, reasonably comfortable and a decent price. When we arrive at the Victorian Stonehaven station we ask the ticket attendant for suggestions on how to reach Twenty-four Shorehead, the B&B we have booked for the night. He describes a "short walk" all downhill to the marina which the B&B faces. There's also a comment about calling a taxi if we want, with numbers listed in front of the station. The four of us pull our wheeled bags outside and stand around debating our approach for 10 minutes. While Fergus is off looking at the signs regarding taxi's the three us us decide what the heck - we'll just walk it. After all, it is all a "short walk" and all downhill.
Fergus catches up. We are quite the sight - four tourists walking single file two with backpacks and all dragging our bags behind us. At one point we stop to rest and discuss directions when a local woman comes out of her charming stone home. She offers to help and tells us to take the road that T's in front of her home, follow it as it curves down to the harbor then take a right. Sounds simple enough, and it is, but the walk is not something none of us would call "short". It turns out to be somewhere between 1 1/2 and 2 miles when we finally arrive at Twenty-four Shorehead, the building furthest along the harbor around 2 pm.
Fergus rings the bell of the B&B. No answer. He tries again. No answer. A few minutes later the proprietor opens the door and says she wasn't expecting us until later. Check-in begins at 5 pm. We start to ask about her storing our bags and she says the rooms are mostly ready. Her attitude toward us is cool, and she is especially not fond of me as I start to drag my roller suitcase up the stairs. She admonishes us to have two people carry it - one in front and one in the back. The stairs and stairway are narrow and it is a challenging feat not to scrape the walls or carpet with the bag while simultaneously not falling. At last we reach the top floor and are treated to a delightful room which is tastefully decorated and smells incredibly fresh and clean ... without the cleaning product smell. The window is open and just beyond we see the boats bobbing in the harbor.
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