My daily walk with Rousay has become tedious. For the past 18 months we have been confined to short walks around the town, on the local wood- and wet-lands or nearby beaches, woods and parks. It has all become very same-y and boring. We used to enjoy long rambles on designated long distance pathways or up (and down) hills but that has all changed and both interest and fitness levels have decreased substantially. In addition, the shorter days have begun to take its toll on my energy levels and I have been feeling ‘flat’ and unenthusiastic for some time. Time for a change.
A change doesn’t have to be big. Sometimes a little change is all that is needed. I always feel better beside the sea and beach walks are a regular part of my routine. Rousay and I often enjoy a stroll along Aberdeen beach, Stonehaven beach or the short walk between Bervie and Gourdon, or, when we could walk further, even as far as Johnshaven where we would rest and have a pub lunch near the harbour before walking back along the same path. I needed a new destination to mix things up and decided on nearby Cove harbour.
I have been to Cove many times – my hairdresser is in the town- but I had never been down to the harbour. In fact, I think I have only once previously crossed the railway bridge which connects the older part of the village from the new, expanded town. The old cottages built on the sloping street can be described as quaint and old fashioned, I suppose, but the garden opposite the houses with a large statue in the centre was fresh and modern. It is a pity there isn’t a plaque to explain the monument or recognise its sculptor but it creates interest in the beholder to examine all the different facets. For me it evokes a sense of place and the village’s maritime life and history.
The view down to the sea is spectacular, even on a wet and grey day. The change from built urban landscape to rugged coast-scape and out into the wild North Sea brought a bounce of joy to my heart. Less heartening was the realisation that the downhill trek to the harbour was necesarily going to be followed by an equally steep uphill trudge back to the car!
Cove harbour is not pretty but it is astoundingly beautiful. It is not a picture perfect place of little pleasure boats and seaside buckets and spades but a rugged, almost tamed haven for fishermen to shelter surrounded by large natural rocks and a small manmade concrete shield against the forces of nature. It was still and calm under the protection of the sea wall and rocks but the trawler just off shore told a different story as it rose and fell on the substantial swell of the tide. The trawler can almost be seen in the central photo below behind the spray of a crashing wave.
The beach, what there is of it, is stoney and gravelly. Nevertheless, Rousay enjoyed a good dig while I filled my pockets with seaglass, polished smooth by the waves crashing at the harbour mouth as seabirds watched from perches on rocky outcrops. I have always joked that I have saltwater in my veins but the feelings of peace and contentment I get beside the sea lends the jest a half truth.
The walk back up the hill was as vigourous as expected but Rousay and I were bouyed on with a sence of ease and tranquility. We stopped on a bench half way up to admire what view we could see through the mist and when our eyes met I think we both agreed it was a small change to our routine with big consequences for our souls.
Significantly Different 