high tide at Barns Ness
Barns Ness, 17 November
When I launched this blog back in early September, I had a loose plan in mind when thinking ahead to the autumn season. I was looking forward to visiting some favourite places: Loch Dunmore and Faskally Wood in Perthshire, which would be particularly beautiful in autumn. Maybe The Hermitage too, also in Perthshire, as we haven’t been for a long time. Fife’s East Neuk for sure, with trips to Pittenweem and Crail, and the coastal walk from Elie to St Monan’s - another favourite. Definitely Cambo Gardens and Kingbarns as we usually visit a few times a year.
I also hoped that this space might be one for new adventures, new places, but a combination of Raf’s reactivity and life stuff pressed pause on venturing far. We couldn’t really take Raf to new places where he would just stress himself and us. And we couldn’t really take him for daytime adventures where there would be other people around to readily stress him - and us.
So this autumn-into-winter season has been one of late afternoon walks in familiar places. I look through photos and realise that everything is pretty low light, which I don’t mind (I love a low light mood in photos, although it would also be great to experience more daylight), but also that these walks all feature the same handful of places. This space will get more varied in 2025! And not only for the sake of this blog, obviously - our lives need to get more varied too.
But on this Sunday, we were back at Whitesands, heading to Barns Ness and on towards Torness. It was high tide, and the sound of the waves was a constant backdrop to our walk. And while we had low light, I was enjoying all these subtle tones.
This walk was so calm, so quiet, so needed, but also so cold. Can you sense the cold in these scenes? As we headed back to the car, walking along the path behind the dunes towards Barns Ness, the wind you can see whipping the top of the waves here was also skelping us. It was to be a sub-zero night, and we could feel that as our faces and hands and legs chilled. Basically anything that wasn’t tucked inside an insulated coat was getting very cold indeed. It was already below freezing as we got back to the car for a flask of tea, sitting in the darkness, gently thawing out, watching the full moon glow over the water. It was beautiful.
And then… well then we got stuck. Richard started to drive away but, in a complete fluke, the car got wedged with the front wheels over the edge of the grassy section we’d been parked on, and the base of the car on the ground. We got out and looked at this scene with incredulity (among other things!), as there was clearly no way to get out of this position, and realised that here we were, in an empty car park overlooking Whitesands beach, in the darkness and cold, on a Sunday night - and waiting for the AA.
It could have been worse - it could have been raining, and we did have the full moon, but… We spent a few hours in the car, watching each random set of distant headlights as they wound along the road that leads towards Whitesands… only each car was heading to the neighbouring cement plant. Raf was in the back seat, confused at this strange and inexplicable end to a walk, but thankfully wearing an Equafleece jumper so he wasn't feeling too cold. And then the relief as an AA van pulled up, and the even greater relief when the mechanic figured out how to elevate the Mini just enough to move forwards. “Every day is a school day,” he said, meaning that every call out brought a different challenge and he had to think on his feet.
So yes, a familiar walk, but this one has an ending that we really hope not to be repeating. And I guess this brings me to a new piece of advice if you’re visiting Whitesands to take this Barns Ness walk and happen to have a smaller car: be mindful where you park.
Barns Ness, East Lothian, 17 November 2024.
#barnsness #eastlothian #scotland
