We were sitting in the Pine Marten cafe in Glenmore. An old alpine-style place that’s stood there seemingly for a long long time. Part cafe, part bar and part shop serving the nearby campsite, it was empty when we arrived for breakfast. It had just opened and the fire was still yet to take.
We’d spent the previous night in our van. A very cold night, probably the coldest of the trip so far, and woke up not wanting to make breakfast or coffee.
We’d been travelling around the Cairngorms in Scotland, looking for snow and trying to get some winter mountain days, but so far it was a typical Scottish winter. Lack of snow unless you spent hours walking up to it, bitterly cold nights and promises of the white stuff yet to come.
We picked the old nook in the far corner of the cafe, sliding our legs under the table, and looked out the big windows. They overlooked the garden and woods out the back. Mainly birch and scots pine, some spruce, all with various bird feeders hanging.
Looking around the main room, there was a lot of old memorabilia on the walls. Skiing and mountaineering kit nailed in and more black and white photos.
The owner came over with some menus, and after small talk, we ordered coffee and some egg and hash brown rolls.
The windows were letting in a lot of light, and the fire started to go as the wood crackled and sparked little embers out onto the hearth. It was certainly helping us thaw out from the cold.
While the van was insulated, and we were both wrapped in winter sleeping bags and a quilt, we still felt it. Being at around 350 metres above sea level in Scotland over winter is enough for the temperature to drop well below freezing.
The coffee arrived and we both wrapped our fingers around the mugs to warm them up a little. My partner put in her usual teaspoon of brown sugar and stirred the mug.
We’d been out the previous day on a winter ascent of Bynack More. A typical Scottish day, a long walk in and a long walk out, but always worth it as it was bright sun and clear blue skies. We had snow and ice at around 800 metres. The summit was clear across the park with some stunning views across to Cairngorm and Ben Macdui.
After we’d got back down we pulled into a campsite, needing a warm shower and a pint. The pub wasn’t serving food so we had our pint and went back to cook something quick in the cold dark corner where we’d parked. After dinner we left the pots and climbed into our bags, pulling over the duvet and dropping off.
Despite the cold we slept well, but getting up was a chore. The lure of warm coffee and egg rolls was enough of a motivation to stick a few layers on and head up to the Pine Martin.
The bright winter sun was starting to pour through the window as we sat drinking coffee, waiting for breakfast. A glorious orb hanging low over the Cairngorm plateau off in the distance.
Pockets of snow still hung around the corries and gullies, a blanket of snow covered the mountainside from around 700 metres. Some of the aspects were wind scoured from previous heavy wind and were now bare.
Through the windows in the nook, we sat watching the feeding frenzy of the birds over the hanging feeders and platforms.
Blue tits, great tits and chaffinches all hustled and bustled, waiting for their opening to dive in and get their share. Swooping in and out, aerial dog fights as they vied for supremacy. The odd fat pigeon barges its way in like a clumsy drunk.
A disco ball had been hung from a branch and, as the sun caught, it reflected squares onto the surrounding trees.
The rolls arrived and we tucked in, the egg yolk burst and spilt down my fingers, warm and gooey.
Licking them clean I put the roll down and opened it out, carefully spreading the rest of the yolk around the chunky hash browns. Closing the roll I took another bite, and it was the best breakfast roll I’d ever had.
Finishing them off we ordered two more and watched the birds some more, sipping the coffee and chatting.
The sun was warm on our faces and my cheeks felt red and flushed. The quiet and calmness made me sleepy. There was a storm forecast for the area but at that time there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
Reminds me of car camping in -12°C and waking up to frozen water bottles (and fingers and toes!) I would've loved a pine marten cafe then! Sounds like a great trip though. I love Scotland in the winter!