[This walk was completed on Monday, 12th May 2025]

Ormond Castle turns out to be a disappointment. I climb a grassy hill, and find a few stones and a flag pole. That’s all. Even the views are disappointing, as the sea mist has thickened and is drifting in a chilly cloud around the place.

Never mind. I’ve seen much better castles in Scotland. Onwards.

The path takes me off the hill, and leads through farmland…

… until I join a quiet country lane. Grass growing through the tarmac. Trees arching overhead. This is a lovely walk and, despite the mist, I feel enfolded in bright greenery.

The little road joins a larger one, and I am back on the sea shore. This is the village of Avoch. On the bus this morning, the automated announcements called it “Och” – I have no idea if that is correct or not.

Houses line the coastal road. I’m guessing this bay is really attractive in the sunshine. Shame I can’t see much of it today!

I pass an old red telephone box. This one has been converted into a book exchange, and the sign implies the local council have been involved.

It is always sad to see these wonderful red phone boxes – such an iconic and British symbol – disused and abandoned. But at least many of them have been preserved and are being used for alternative purposes.

Avoch (or Och) is a really pretty village and seems to have kept its original character. A wonderful row of tiny white cottages lines the coast road. Do people still live in these? They are very small.

A glance up a side-street and the sense of careful preservation continues. More traditional cottages. Rows of flower pots outside. Everything neat and cared for.

The coastal road ends with a communal garden, a children’s mural, a plaque celebrating the wives of fishermen, and a closed public toilet. I take some photographs of the little harbour. Is that a fishing boat? Do fishermen still bring their catches into Avoch?

Because the toilet is closed, I am forced to visit a cafe for a cup of tea, and a rather vile-tasting biscuit. Then I follow footpath signs up the hill. I’m looking for another Core Path (another one that follows the old railway line), that should take me into Fortrose.

Walking the road would actually take me closer to the sea (as per Rule number 2 of my rules for walking the coast) but I scouted the road while on the bus this morning, and it is narrow, with constant fast traffic, and no footpaths. So I have decided it is not “safe, legal or reasonable” to follow the road.

My walking route has an unpromising start – walking uphill past back gardens and bins, and apparently going in the wrong direction altogether!

After swinging round in a tight bend, the signs point me along a tree-lined path. The dire warnings about motorcycles and dog poo are a little off-putting…

… but at least I’m heading in the right direction. And the path turns out to be truly lovely. A screen of trees hides the busy road beneath me. The bluebells are out, and looking gorgeous.

Love this seat. Kelpies? Hand carved in situ, I guess. But I’ve just had a sit-down in the cafe, so I don’t deserve another rest. Onwards.

Another bench to tempt me. This one is close to a large stone with some inscriptions carved in the surface. At first I think the stone is a memorial…

… but I read the writing etched on its surface, and it seems to be some sort of artwork. “The shadow over Culloden will rise and the sun will shine brighter.” Poetry? Where is Culloden?

It’s all a bit mysterious, but I’m too tired to linger. Must get on with my walk.

Like most routes along old railway lines, the way is long and straight and I’m now walking through a cutting with raised banks and no view. Usually, I would find this boring, but it really is a beautiful path. Bluebells have given way to wild garlic – and the smell is strong and heady.

Finally, after another mile or so, I realise I must be on the outskirts of Fortrose. Garden walls on my left and rooftops beneath me on my right.

Ah, here is the end. The path passes under the deep shade of an old yew tree (I think it’s a yew) and emerges into brilliant sunshine.

I realise I am on an embankment, and must climb down some steps to reach the road. Here, I stop to take a photograph of the old railway bridge.

Fortrose has been a great base for me for a few days – with interesting buildings, shops and a chippy (which I’ve visited nearly every evening so far!). But it is plagued by traffic that funnels through its narrow main street.

I’m heading for Fortrose Cathedral, where I have left my Scooty bike. A cathedral in such a small place? Yes, there has been a cathedral here for over 1000 years and the current ruins date from the 14th Century.

Fortrose is a place with dolphins and a lot of history. I am moving on tomorrow, and will be sorry to leave it.

I unlock my bike and freewheel down to the campsite. It has been a good walk today, but I am feeling very, very tired.

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[Later I look up the mysterious inscription on the stone monolith. It turns out to be a phrophecy by a seer called Kenneth Mackenzie, a man who may or may not have actually existed. Brahan Seer – Wikipedia]

Miles walked today = 9.5 miles

Total distance around coast = 5,243 miles

Route today (morning in black, afternoon in red):

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