Spotlight - 11.2019

28 Spotlight 11/2019 TRAVEL

C

ould we go paddle-

boarding in Scot-

land next year?”

asked Erna, my

friend and fellow

paddleboard in-

structor, in 2018.

“What’s a good time to go to Scotland?

When is the weather nice there?”

“Early summer is often quite nice —

but there’s really no guarantee,” I replied.

“Let’s go in early summer then,” said

Erna. She was serious, so we started plan-

ning.

The hardest thing about such a tour is

deciding where to paddle. Bavaria is our

home; we love its lakes, and while there

are several, it doesn’t compare with Scot-

land’s nearly 12,000 kilometres of coast-

line, 125,000 kilometres of rivers and

more than 27,000 freshwater lochs (lakes).

“I want to see where you grew up,”

Erna told me.

“And I’d really love to go to Harris,” I

said, referring to part of Lewis and Har-

ris, an island in the remote and sparsely

populated Outer Hebrides. I longed to

see the white sands and turquoise wa-

ter of Luskentyre Bay on its west coast.

There were other places I wanted to tour

by paddleboard: Loch Ness was a must, of

course, and I had a vision of paddling on

Loch Duich, a sea loch in the Highlands,

with Eilean Donan Castle in the back-

ground.

Summer came around quickly, so we

left the shining lakes of the Munich area

to go on a Scottish paddleboard adven-

ture of a lifetime.

Getting started

It’s our first day in Scotland and we can’t

quite believe the sun is shining. We drive

the rental van to North Berwick on the

Firth of Forth estuary, 25 miles east of

Edinburgh, the Scottish capital. We park

at the beach, and in the distance, we can

see steep-sided Bass Rock. It’s famous as a

colony of about 150,000 gannets — which

have given the rock its white coating.

After pumping up our inflatable,

stand-up paddling (SUP) boards, we set

off towards “the Bass”. There’s quite a stiff

breeze, but the sea and sky are the bright-

est blue. It takes me a while to find my sea

legs, but the boards are stable and I soon

find my flow. As we get closer to the huge

rock, we see hundreds of birds wheeling

above it. We sit down on our boards, take

a few photos, then paddle back to the

shore and reward ourselves with fish and

chips. What a perfect start to our trip.

Home on the North Sea

Today, we’re driving up to Aberdeenshire

and the north-east coast. Our first stop

is Dunnottar Castle, south of the small

town of Stonehaven. In the car park, I spot

a man in a kilt and send Erna over to take a

selfie with her first real Scotsman. When

I join them a few minutes later, I hear her

speaking Bavarian. She introduces me to

Sepp, a whisky expert from Munich.

Sitting atop the steep headland, the

ruined fortress of Dunnottar looks spec-

tacular. But the sea pinks wagging their

blossoms in the breeze and the gulls cry-

ing overhead make me eager to go home

to the village I grew up in. We get back in

the van and drive an hour north to Whin-

nyfold, a clifftop hamlet overlooking the

North Sea. I feel a bit emotional as we

drive into the village, but I’m keen to get

into the sea, so I busy myself inflating the

boards. We carry them down the steep

path to the stony beach below.

As soon as we’ve paddled out of the

sheltered natural channel that genera-

tions of fishermen used to launch their

boats, we realize how windy it is. The tide

is low and there are lots of rocks just be-

neath the water’s surface. We paddle cau-

tiously because we don’t want to damage

the fins on the undersides of our boards.

I point out a cave in the cliff side. Even

at low tide, it’s not possible to reach it on

foot. I’ve always wondered what’s inside.

Treasure left behind by smugglers? Or

just bats? “Let’s go and see,” says Erna,

ready for an adventure.

We paddle round the big rock, called

the Gadman, and see even more rocks

at the mouth of the cave. We get off our

boards and wade the last few metres,

thigh-deep in the sea. We’re surprised to

find a tiny sandy beach inside the cave.

There’s no treasure — and thankfully, no

bats. If only we could stay longer and ex-

plore the other little coves in the area, but

it’s time to drive the nearly three hours

west to Inverness, the small city known

as the “capital of the Scottish Highlands”.

Monster paddle: Loch Ness

We start planning our day’s paddling after

breakfast in the youth hostel in Inverness,

bat [bÄt]

, Fledermaus

blossom [(blQsEm]

, Blüte

cautiously [(kO:SEsli]

, vorsichtig

cave [keIv]

, Höhle

cove [kEUv]

, Bucht

eager: be ~ to do sth.

[ˈiːɡə]

, darauf brennen, etw.

zu tun

estuary [(estjUri]

, (Fluss)Mündung

fin [fIn]

, Finne

freshwater [(freS)wO:tE]

, Süßwasser-

gannet [(gÄnIt]

, Tölpel, Basstölpel

gull [gVl]

, Seemöwe

hamlet [(hÄmlEt]

, Dörfchen, Nest

headland [(hedlEnd]

, Landzunge

inflatable [In(fleItEb&l]

, aufblasbar

keen: be ~ to do sth.

[ki:n]

, etw. unbedingt tun

wollen

launch [lO:ntS]

, zu Wasser lassen

remote [ri(mEUt]

, abgeschieden, isoliert

ruined fortress

[)ru:Ind (fO:trEs]

, zerfallene Festung

sea legs: find one’s ~

[(si: leɡz]

, seefest werden

sea pink [(si: pINk]

, Strandgrasnelke

set off [set (Qf]

, sich aufmachen

sheltered [(SeltEd]

, geschützt

sparsely [(spA:sli]

, spärlich, wenig; hier:

dünn

spot [spQt]

, hier: entdecken

steep-sided

[(sti:p )saIdId]

, steilwandig

SUP [sEp] ifml.

, hier: Wortspiel mit

“ ’sup”, kurz für “ What’s

up?” (Wie geht’s?)

surface [(s§:fIs]

, Oberfläche

thigh-deep [(TaI di:p]

, bis zum Oberschenkel

tide: low ~ [taId]

, Ebbe

treasure [(treZE]

, Schatz

turquoise [(t§:kwOIz]

, türkisfarben

wade [weId]

, waten

wag [wÄg]

, wedeln; hier: wiegen

wheel [wi:&l]

, kreisen, Runden drehen

Impressive sheep

on the Isle of Harris