The experience of Camusfearna – Richard, Scotland

Camus ferana is a well famed beach with naturally fossilised dinosaur footprints beside the seashore, covered with little limestone rocks which have markings of fossils on them. After walking around the coast, where you think its the end of the walk, you would find yourself staring at dark cloudy mountains, in the near distance, After taking the bad step, which gets its name by taking the risk of hoping through two sides of path in which between is a sharp cliff into the sea. Then you would find yourself staring at a bright tranquill loch, compared to the dark cloudy mountain.

The first part of the walk was a peaceful grassland where there was no sight of any animal life (especially humans), to disturb the stillness of peace in the air. We went around a bland hill that was floating on the ocean. Occassionally we would see sheep grazing  at the bottom of the hill, their young alarmed at our existence and nestling deep into their mother’s stomach. It was warm and sunny, the fresh air rushing through our bodies. There was a peaceful tiny stream apparent where we stopped, which was cooling the hot air. I could see, remotely, the mountain, grave and intense in the gloom and mist. We continued to trot, the pot in my bag, clanking, as if he was singing a song to me. My eyes brightened from the news that closeby was a phenomenal prehistoric site, with dinosaur footprints dating back to 100million years. The traces of the footprints cut halfway through the beach. The beach was covered with limestones engraving fossilised shells or, perhaps, worms. This would be a new experience for me. I haven’t walked on boggy flatlands with a collosal coast ever. After a short while, when the beach with fossils could be seen, I decided to scuttle down the hill and inspect some. After digging through some rocks, I found what could be a worm fossil. The lime rock had fine strips of stained white matter in it, making me think it was a fossil. All around me I could see rocks covered in white shells. I felt really adventurous and decided to start digging for some more. But all I could find was an endless sea of fossils of which there are two types: One with white strips and another with white bumps that resemble shells.

After experiencing a little frustration but, still, with satisfaction, I waddled out of the beach onto the grassland. After catching up with my brother and father, who were reasonably far away, my father spotted an Adder. The Adder was small and dark with elegant movement, he slithered around the thick tall grass, slowly away from our sight. My father got a good photo of the sly creature. Then, out of the blue, came a beautiful butterfly flapping its elegant wings around the place. Thankfully, dad got another proper picture from the butterfly and we got a good stare at it. The clear air was warming, our lungs filled with it. It was a great experience to see an Adder in the wild, its perfect and rare body cutting through the grass. 

Suddenly a river, rushing beside a hill, was an obstacle to us, but after hopping through series of pebbles and crawling up the steep hill, I suddenly realised that William was not to be seen. My dad and I yelled out for William and eventually he found his way through to us. But he was unexpectedly frustrated, whining about what had happened to him. I asked, and he explained that he tripped on a rock to abruptly splatter in a puddle of bog. That led me to realising that half of his body (including his shoe) was covered in brown mud. But fortunately we made a fascinating discovery on a rock under the little stream of water which revealed orderly strips of white fossilised Nematodes. I (and I suppose dad and William) felt that this was something to be happy and satisfied about.

 After that came sight of the path leading to a bare hill that was an inevitable obstacle in our journey. I was starting to feel slightly bored and wrecked, thinking about a warm aromatic lunch and having a little rest. But, still, the air kept its freshness and warmth. So we decided to traverse up the hill, the path going around like a belt into a patch of jungle. In here were some boggy puddles of which one my brother failed to jump over and landed deep into the bog. In shame, my brother leapt out of the bog and grinned sarcasticly while saying: “You saw nothing”. The feeling of the jungle was one of my homeland forests, but with light-red wood which enhances the rich colour. The air cooled a little, seeming to gain its freshness slightly.

  The path popped out the other side of the jungly patch on the mountain and dived down to the grassland. The sun, at this time, glowed vigurously in the sky, for it was mid-day. There was no sight of Flora or Fauna in my vision filtered by the clear air. There was no sound to vibrate the air, leaving only our voices to be heard. A rocky coast caught my eye, which enticed me unknowingly onto it, without telling my brother or my father. On the coast were dark murky puddles of water containing bright-green coral and ordinary snails. There were old-dried barnacles on the rocks that were all over the place. After a short moment I was shocked to realise that I wasn’t with my brother and father and decided to climb back up to them. We eventually met in a dark-roofed hut, where I apologised for my stupidity. My father and brother weren’t really bothered about me getting lost, and we decided to move on after energising ourselves with a snicker bar. Slowly, but surely, we arrived back onto the endless stretch of the coastal beach. I could see beyond Gavin Maxwell’s house. In his life he wrote: Ring of bright water (which is about an otter that he kept with him in his house) and other books about otters and of other matters. Beside his house was a hut that was open and a stream of cool water flowing quietly through the grassland onto the beach. So after a great deal of adventurous walking that made my legs sore, we had a lunch break on a boulder beside the river.

  While my dad and my brother were cooking lunch, I decided to explore a portion of the river, digging into little pebbles to find something interesting, which I failed to find anything, sadly. But earlier on when I was walking on the beach to arrive in the river I found two ordinary crabs sleeping in the open on the sand. It was really fascinating to see the crabs close by eye, the light pink color and sharp, prickly appearance. I even thought they could be dead from their stillness in movement. For lunch we had some Singapore curry noodle soup which tasted  pretty decent and got a good rest for my legs. After lunch, we took a few sips of water and then headed off to the hidden loch.

  In our way was a river that he had to cross by hopping through a series of rocks. I found that I had to take my boots and socks off on the way, and it was slow for me to cross the river as I was scared of falling. My brother and dad found it easier because my dad had two walking sticks to balance himself through the river. Next up was some sketchy rock climbing over to the other side of the coast. We then crossed the coast and arrived into a tiny rock valley that was about 30metres by height and 10metres by width. The last bit was walking on the precarious path to lead us to the hidden loch. As it was getting dark, we decided to stop before the bad step and so never got to go through to see the hidden loch, but still the scenery was spectacular.

  The hidden loch is an infinitely peaceful place to be in where the mountains form a spectacular view. Even though this place seemed lifeless, it is a place full of wonders to be seen and felt.