Driving out of Tongue and retracing our route along the single lane road, Henry and I drank in the beautiful landscape and skies of the Highlands in the far north of Scotland. We both felt so grateful that we had been here to see, explore, and enjoy the exquisite terrain and the vast emptiness of this rugged northern coast. Few Americans venture this far north, we were told, and, had it not been for New York friends, who now live most of the year in a remote village near Tongue, we may not have had the pleasure of the experience. As a toast to our friends, fellow New Yorkers Eloise Watt and David Olyphant, both of Scottish ancestry, we decided to stop for lunch at the Crask Inn, owned by friends of theirs whom they both admired. We had just passed several bicyclists braced against the north winds as they pedaled uphill, and were not surprised to see a few of their tour group still warming themselves by the fire inside the stone house. When I opened the front door of the inn, I was immediately greeted by a sweet and gentle dog, semi-retired from his labors of herding sheep. His owners told us that he was one of three in their kennels, the senior dog with house privileges. We asked for bowls of soup, and were served piping hot potato-leek soup with warm, plump rolls and fresh butter. When the owner served us the  tap water we requested, he remarked that it was “peaty”, and we thought it tasted great! Since I had forthrightly announced our friendship with “the Olyphants” to the kind and somewhat reserved proprietors upon entering, our visit ended with a nice conversation about swimming in the ice water of Scotland. Except for Henry, we all agreed it was far too cold here to take the plunge. The two of us were very happy, however, that we had taken the break and “plunged“ in for some soup.  As we left the Crask Inn, another cyclist arrived, a member of the group of 16, many of whom were from London. Several miles down the road, we saw the last three pedaling hard uphill in slight rain showers. It looked pretty miserable, and we were both was very happy to be motoring along!

PHOTOS: Left Column: Some skyscapes and landscapes of the North Highlands in the far northern reaches of Scotland. Center, Top: The Crask Inn. Center, Bottom: The semi-retired dog, hospitable greeter with house privileges. Right Column: 1. Sign for the inn. 2. A cast metal marker at the parking area, with references about the Mackay Clan.