Scotland - Day Fourteen - Thurso and Wick

Thurso greeted us with wild, wet weather which meant we had to change our plans around a little. Lucky we are so young and agile and nimble and able to pivot on a sixpence, and after a sit down, a cup of tea, an in-depth discussion, pie chart and PowerPoint presentation, we swapped our itinerary days over. The Favourite Husband, still feeling a bit fragile, wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of trudging through mud around another lighthouse on a cliff near to the edge. (No sense of adventure.) So, instead we drove across to Wick as it sounded like their museum might be worth a mooch. He thought I said “smooch” and significantly perked up, but it was short lived. Wick seemed really rather nice, despite the gale force wind and subsequent driving rain. We stopped for a coffee and some friendly locals told us they were “sorry and disappointed” with the weather on our behalf. Those words triggered memories of parent’s evenings when I was young, so I winced through my smile.

The River Wick runs through the town which makes it quite picturesque, even on a wet day. It’s bigger than you might think, with council offices, a hospital and a busy court – which we noticed due to a few dodgy looking lurkers outside. Apparently there has been evidence of a community here since the Iron Age and brooches and bracelets believed to date back to the Norse times of the mid 1830’s have been discovered. It is believed the name Wick stems from the Norse word for “Bay” or indeed “Viking.” Can you tell we found the museum?!

The Wick Heritage Museum was really good. Whilst there is much history regarding Wick’s herring business background, a large part of it was photographs that have been developed from donated glass plate negatives and digitally enhanced, combined with a collection of existing photographs and equipment. These were gifted to the museum by relatives of the photographer (3 generations) that was based in the town for 100 years, known as the Johnstone Collection. There are around 50,000 images in the collection, not all on display of course, or we’d still be there. I find this sort of visual record of times gone by fascinating. But it also worries me as to what, if anything, will be left behind of me when I am gone. So I’ve told the Favourite Husband that he needs to start taking good photos of me, and lots of them, for my funeral montage. I’m thinking at least three songs will need to be played, so he has his work cut out for him. He muttered something about having to download some filters. As he’s been unwell, I decided to graciously ignore him, but it’s locked in my memory for future point scoring.

Next to the museum is a memorial site and garden where a bomb fell on the houses there on the 1st July 1940, it was the first bomb to hit Wick. The school holidays had been extended because of the war so there were children playing outside. 15 people died, 8 of which were children. It was a sombre contemplation as we stood there in the rain.

Wick was interesting, some great old buildings and a wild harbour. I’d have happily browsed the shops but it’s hard when the banker needs the loo every 17 minutes …

We did make a special point of seeing 1 Ebenezer Place which is officially the world’s shortest street at just over 2 metres. This involved walking (see also “being swept along in a gale”) past the cafe we had first had coffee a further two times. By the fourth time this morning they were standing in the window waving and cheering us on. Whilst no doubt declaring what twats we were to be out in this weather.

The rain was indeed stubborn so we gave up the idea of a few ruined castles (including “the Old Man of Wick” castle) and returned to base to warm up.

Later, when it had brightened up, we found the beach in Thurso which was surprisingly nice and there were various old buildings which I love. An absolute highlight was exploring what is believed to be one of Scotland’s oldest churches, St Peter’s Kirk, dating back to at least 1125. It is fabulously Gothic and dramatic and really does take your breath away when you kind of just stumble upon it at the end of a road. I can totally believe that it was here that was the home of church hearings. These hearings decided how to punish local law breakers. There’s also the ruins of Thurso Castle dating from 1872 across the road. There’s a large North Coast Visitors Centre in town too, it’s got a small gift shop and displays and exhibitions.

Also of interest was a very unusual (and definitely phallic) structure on the outskirts of town in a field. I made the Favourite Husband go up there and get a picture on the premise that the fresh air and exercise would do him good. With the help of Google it turns out that it’s Harold’s Tower which is a folly or a mausoleum, for the Sinclair family dated 1780-1790. Who is Harold I hear you ask? Earl Harold was a Norse nobleman whose remains are believed to lie nearby from dying in battle in 1195.

Due to my ever-enquiring mind I had to search “Kirk” and “folly” as I was fairly sure they didn’t mean Captain and foolhardy. As I’d predicted in an earlier conversation with the Favourite Husband, Kirk is indeed a Scottish word for church, mainly associated with the Church of Scotland. Folly means a building specifically for decorative use rather than functional. I am thinking I may change my name to Folly. In addition, I may add “folly” to my home improvements list for when I get home, it would go well within the “walled garden” I’m planning for my 4m x 4m garden. And let’s not forget the portcullis, marble staircase and several turrets.

I am so excited for tomorrow when we are off to John O’Groats …