Fifty shades of Spey

I’ve taken to walking sections of the Speyside Way, a haphazard goal I’m keeping up my sleeve for visits to family in the north. I hit on the idea when I was staying with my brother Sean and his wife Lara earlier in the year. Lara and I walked about eight miles of this trail, from Tomintoul to the Glenlivet distillery (it was closed, sadly). 

Speyside Way marker

I don’t know if it’s midlife thing. It’s true that long-distance walking is mighty popular with the 40 to 60-somethings, though that is perhaps because they’re the only people with the time and resources. My siblings have gone in another direction – road biking. I think I’m just too much of a tourist to take on the relentless pedalling. I like to yomp when I have to, but dawdle when I can. 

Dawdling under Highland skies

So on this visit to my brother’s in Nethybridge, over three days, I completed three sections of the 65-mile trail, which starts at Buckie on the Moray coast and ends at Aviemore. Except that I’m starting in the middle and walking in the direction that suits the particular day’s logistics. 

The route passes near Abernethy Kirk, playing host to a pop-up art exhibition and coffee shop

Whichever direction you take, the drama of the weather, my feeling of connection to the landscape, and the fascinating historical contexts, make it the perfect trail for me. Some sections, for example, follow an old railway line that once connected the area to Elgin, and you occasionally find yourself strolling past an old station and platform. 

The old Cromdale railway station and platform

Signs of a bygone age

A lot of the path winds through pine and birch forests – Anagach Woods by Grantown on Spey is home to the elusive capercaille. There is bird life aplenty – oystercatchers, and lapwings sounding like squeezy toys circle overhead, warning me off the chicks they are nurturing in the long grass of the adjacent fields. 

Light and shade in Anagach Community Woods

Looking towards the Cairngorms National Park

I pass a remote kirk and notice a plaque marking the site of the Battle of Cromdale, in 1690, when some 400 Jacobite soldiers were killed by Government troops who led a surprise charge at night. The remainder of the Jacobites fled, many of them near naked, having had to abandon their plaids in the confusion. The battle ended any chance of King James regaining the throne, at the time occupied jointly by his daughter Mary and her husband William of Orange. There’s more history, too, as I cross the River Spey on ancient stone bridges, as well as industrial-era cast iron affairs. 

The River Spey is a constant presence

Enjoying cast iron cover

There is much farmland to zig-zag around, and not much refreshment – you really have to bring your own. At Cromdale, I nip in to an outward bound centre to go to the loo and see the kids’ lunchboxes lined up. I’ve just been told there’s no shop or cafe in the village. All I have is water and I’m ravenous. Would they miss a sandwich? I think better of it and decide to call it a day. There’s a bowl of soup with my name on it back at Sean’s.