This past weekend, we knocked another thing off Lee’s bucket list and travelled up to Inverness by train. He sometimes has to drive up that way for work and never gets to admire the scenery, so going by train seemed the perfect way to allow him to gawp at the hills for as long as he liked, plus, I quite liked the idea of it too.
Inverness though, it has to be said, is a bit of a shit hole. I think I had romantic notions of a quaint Highland getaway, but it was pretty grim up there, to be honest. The nicest thing we saw was this old shopfront in the Victorian market.
All repairs executed by practical workmen is my favourite bit. The rest of the market was a dive, much like the surrounding streets. Everywhere you look are charity shops and pubs you wouldn’t stray into, and even the shops which are not charity shops look like charity shops, which is a very confusing state of affairs.
We arrived mid-afternoon and made the best of it by strolling along the river (twice).
There’s Lee putting a brave face on things. Even the weather was grey, despite the rest of the nation apparently enjoying a heatwave. We did stumble upon a hipsterish bar and fortified ourselves with fancy cocktails before trying to find somewhere to eat dinner. I even overlooked their terrible use of commas and inappropriate receptacles.
We tried to visit this interesting looking house, apparently the oldest secular building in Inverness – closed.
Inverness Castle – also closed.
An old lady looked at me disapprovingly for saying the word fuck quite loudly near here.
One of those snaps I took whilst mildly sozzled to text to my vegan friend. The other, I took so I could try and figure out what it could possibly mean later.
The bright spot in our Saturday was finding by accident La Tortilla, an amazing tapas restaurant near our fairly average hotel. It was a welcome oasis of deliciousness in another otherwise barren grey wasteland of drudgery. We ate like Spanish kings and the churros were out of this world.
On the way home on Sunday, the weather started off like this:
and ended up in a glorious reversal of fortunes like this:
The weather put on quite a show for our return journey, as if to make up for the disappointing trip. I even got some stitching done on the train.
Moral of the story: Inverness – don’t bother.
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