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Discovering my past in Durness, Scotland

If you would have told me five years ago I'd be visiting Durness, a village so far north in Scotland it could topple into the sea I'd have said you were crazy.  Why would I ever go there?  Without boring everyone with details let's just say a family member provided me with paperwork on my dad's family that was mostly correct but had a few inconsistencies.  I knew marriage dates were wrong....no one had a shotgun marriage in my family.  Ha ha!!   However Dornoch instead of Durness?  I visited the far NE coast of Scotland twice trying to find where my family was and came up with nothing except an intense love of the east coast of Sutherland, the huge county that houses both Dornoch and Durness. I had already visited graves in Ontario but that's as far back as I had gotten - I was beginning to think they had been beamed down!! 

I found a family tree on Ancestry that said my family was from Durness and I said out loud "no, you are wrong".  After further research including information in the archives in Pictou, Nova Scotia I had to admit they were right. Almost half of my Scottish roots lie in Durness which is probably as remote a place as you can get in the United Kingdom.  I knew it wouldn't be easy to get to. Four buses a week go up from Inverness.  I don't drive in the United Kingdom. Heck, I don't drive at home as I got rid of my car years ago after thirty-six years of driving.  That's a whole other story.  I figured the public transport and weather would be better if I went in the summer.  I could combine it with seeing the Royal Military Tattoo and the Fringe festival in Edinburgh which was on my bucket list.  I don't normally travel in the summer; too crowded, too hot, too many kids and too expensive but I made an exception for this trip.  

So mid-afternoon on Tuesday August 9th I boarded the little Durness bus at Inverness bus station.  As the bus was small I had to book a seat ahead of time - I think the office got tired of me inquiring whether the route was still active as they finally replied one day "we booked your seat".  On board was an 80-year-old plus woman with a rollator from Australia named Mary Lou, remember that name as we will run into her again.  The scenery along the route was beautiful and I spent the entire journey gawking out the window listening to the music on my MP3 player (yes, I still have one of those and it is part of the story later on in the trip).  



Two and a half hours later we pulled into Durness.  As I was getting off I asked where the Fashven B and B was and the driver kindly said "stay on" and dropped me off on the road outside the B and B.  That's the Highlanders for you.  

I stayed at the Fashven B and B which was just a couple of minutes walk south of the village.  It is named Fashven because of a nearby mountain...as a Canadian I roll my eyes when they call them mountains but that's what they are considered there.  It was my most expensive accommodation of the trip at an eye-watering 95 pounds (approximately 150 Canadian dollars which is way above my nightly budget for a multi-month trip)  However the owners were charming and the place was clean although no telly in the room. There isn't much accommodation in Durness and the cheapest place was the youth hostel which was a big NO from me.  I snore which doesn't make me a popular person in hostels...I remember being shaken awake and verbally abused at one in New York City and that ended my short-lived hostel dorm stays. 

After sitting on the bus for three and a half hours I was ready to stretch my legs a bit and of course, I was very very excited.  So after stowing my bags and chatting with the hosts a bit off I went.  

This is the view from the parking lot of the B and B.  Not shabby at all. 

And the views as I walked down the road into the village weren't too bad either.

I carried on through the village making note of the Spar store (I would rely on that heavily during my stay).  This was taken looking back towards part of the village...it is spread out along the North 500 road. 


Sango Bay was fantastic.  Unfortunately, the stairway down (if you can call it that) was just too much for my poor knees and vertigo so I had to admire it from above.  

By this time I was pretty tired after my walk in Inverness, the journey and this walk.  Time to go back to the room, unpack and eat the sandwich I had bought in Inverness.  The bed was comfortable but despite that, I couldn't sleep as well as I had hoped as the wind had picked up and something was banging. 

Over one of the best cooked breakfasts I've had in my travels (noted in my journal) I chatted with the owners.  I mentioned I could hear a banging all night and before I left on my walk that morning he was out there fixing something that had come loose from the roof due to the wind.  

The wind was fierce.  I'm from the prairies so believe me I know wind but this took it to a whole new level.  Whoa!!  For once I was grateful I had those extra pounds on me is all I can say - no chance of being blown away!  However, it was sunny so I was happy I wasn't going to be walking around a cemetery in the wind AND rain.  

Despite getting instructions on how to reach Balnakeil cemetery yours truly got misplaced.  But actually it was a good misplacement as not only did I get a lovely view but a chat with a farm hand passing by who told me more about the cemetery.  I think it was a deliberate misplacement - yes let's call it that.  

I managed to turn left here - so far so good. 

And left again....despite reading the sign I decided for some reason to head the other way..maybe because I'm snoopy.  I wasn't trespassing- this one was a path although through a gate that you were warned to close..or else!! 

However with views like this...I was happy I did so. 

One of the three lochs in the immediate area 


Okee dokey then...



This is the ruins of the school that my ancestors attended - how cool is that? 




I then headed back in the right direction but I am so glad I made this detour.  I didn't realize until later that this was the school they would have attended.  I didn't go up close as while the path was good for part of the way it got rocky and I didn't want to fall and hurt myself before I had even gotten to the graves.  Of course me being me I had left my hiking pole back in the room still in my suitcase. 

I then headed back and made my way down the road towards Balnakeil cemetery where my great great great great grandparents and other ancestors lay. 


As always when you are not sure of what's ahead this walk seemed to take forever. 



Hi guys!  


Above is Balnakeil House built in 1744 as the summer residence of the Bishop of Caithness.  It is now a holiday lodge with nine bedrooms and five bathrooms - fancy a stay?  Only just over 4000 pounds for a week for you and up to sixteen of your friends!!!  Hmmm...actually not bad if you filled it up and made everyone pay their share. 


Balnakeil church also known as Durness Parish Church and Old St Peters' Church was built around 1619 and used until 1814.  My great great great grandfather Donald Ross emigrated to Canada the following year so the family would have attended this I assume.  It is an ivy-covered stunner with the beach below it.  

The first order of business as I stepped through the gate was to find "the" grave.  Luckily I had a picture of the grave that I found on a grave location website.   What a valuable resource that is for those interested in family history.  It was just to the left as I stepped into the cemetery and believe you me I was grateful.  I've spent a lot of time trying to find graves sometimes with no luck at all.  


The grave of Hugh Ross and Jean Manson my great great great great grandparents.  I can't even describe what it feels like to stand at the grave of your ancestors. Amazing.  Despite being beside the sea and quite weathered I could read the inscriptions on the gravestone unless the sun was directly on it. I was so lucky that a young couple came to wander through the cemetery while I was there and were kind enough to take several photos of me with my phone. (just easier to hand my phone to people, especially those forty and under!!!)  Hugh is a huge name in my family...in fact Hugh would have been one of three names bestowed on me if I'd been a boy according to my mom.  My grandpa was also named Hugh and I have a cousin with that name and it's used as middle names as well. I guess there are lots of Alexanders, Hughs and Donalds in a lot of other Scottish families as well!!! Multiple great aunts and uncles were nearby as well. I have no idea if I've got any live family nearby.  If I do there will be a return trip!  Ross is a very common Scottish name. What is crazy is that back three generations I am a Ross on that side as well.  I'm still working on that side. Genealogy is fascinating for those that are into it and like watching paint dry (or listening to people talk about their home renovations in my case) to others who aren't into it.  

Okay let's explore the church ruins now. 




This is the grave of Duncan MacMorrach who is said to have disposed of bodies for his master as well as being a downright local scoundrol.  It was decided he couldn't possibly be buried in the churchyard but a compromise was made to bury him in the wall of the church.  Once the church was no longer in use it's said this memorial was moved to its present location.  I wouldn't have known to look for this except for the local fella telling me about it when I was temporarily misplaced earlier. 



The cemetery is still in use and there were newer graves closer to the water.  One of John Lennon's Aunts is buried here though I never did find that one.  

Time to go to the beach!!  






I have to say my ancestors are buried in a stunning place!!!

I loved this beach!! 

When I went to the beach I followed another group through the gate but coming back I couldn't get the latch open (typical for me) and I called out to a woman in a nearby camper who came to rescue me.  We struck up a conversation.  She and her husband were driving the North 500 route which is an increasingly popular route around the north of Scotland.  He was off swimming and she was doing some knitting and watching their dog.  When she heard I was going to Shetland she went back into their caravan and gave me a small piece of raw Shetland wool.  We stood there chatting for a while until I knew I needed to head back and have a rest.  I love these random encounters.  So I bade her farewell and set off back along the road. What a wonderful day!! 

Stay tuned for lots more of beautiful Durness!! 




































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